Sleepwalker
by HidingLight
Summary: Two years after Tony and Gibbs' separation, they are forced to work together on a case that takes them to places they never wanted to go again. The question is, can they get each other through it, or are they too different now to be what each other needs? Angsty Tibbs slash.
1. Chapter 1

_This story has been pieced together bit by bit over a year's worth of time. It's not the pretty, perfect picture that I usually prefer to think of Tibbs as, but an honesty develops that I hope can be appreciated it. You may not like this one- if not, that's cool :) Constructive criticism is always welcome! You may love it, and that kinda feedback is always welcome as well ;) I have about half of this (about ten chapters) already written, and plan on posting weekly. _

Chapter One

Tony was the second one on the scene from his team. Agent Fornell was leaning over a file folder stretched out across the trunk of his car. The older man appeared worried as he looked up to see Tony approaching him. Tony could have sworn he saw him wince, and wondered what was going on. He had worked with the man for almost two years now, and had only seen that look when he had realized it was Diane calling and he'd forgotten to do something for Emily. Tony had to give him props- that was a rare occasion. He'd come to know the man's little girl meant everything to him.

He joined him at the trunk with a questioning look. As soon as he opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, he heard it, or rather, _him_.

The voice sent shivers down his spine, and his eyes closed involuntarily.

"What do we got, Tobias?" The voice was heavy and slow, as if forced from his throat.

Tony felt a wave of nausea. He hadn't heard Gibbs' voice in almost two years. Fornell looked up at Gibbs with a death glare that made Tony want to smile, but he couldn't. When things had gotten ugly, he had been surprised to find that Fornell was on his side. Even _he_ had thought Gibbs had made a mistake by choosing to let Tony go. He wasn't quiet about it, and when Tony told him that he wasn't going to be able to keep working with his former lover, Fornell was quick to offer Tony Sacks' vacant spot. Tony took a week to talk it over with his teammates, and then accepted the position with their blessing. They saw how unhappy he was, and each had surprisingly kept good on their promise to stay in touch frequently outside of work.

He just couldn't keep working with Gibbs.

They had been together for six months before Vance had found out about them. They were the happiest six months of Tony's life. He was sure that they were perfect together, that they were both finally happy, or so he thought.

Vance had called them into his office, and gave them the choice: end it, or chose who goes.

Tony had looked to Gibbs for the answer, and saw it in his face. The older man couldn't look him in the eye, and Tony knew what the decision would be. He couldn't believe that Gibbs didn't even want to discuss it. Tony got up, walked out, grabbed his stuff, and left. He waited all night for a call, or for Gibbs to come by, and tell him that it had been a façade, that they would stay together undercover, but he never came.

Tony had shown up the next day, and hid in Abby's lab until Gibbs finally sent McGee to get him. Tony sent McGee off, apologizing for getting him involved in their mess, but saying that he wasn't coming up until Gibbs came down himself. Abby finally called Gibbs, and threatened him after Tony fell asleep on the futon. Gibbs came downstairs, ready to rage until he saw Tony sleeping on the couch. Abby stopped him, and pulled him back.

"Don't tell me that you don't love him. I see the way you look at him. Admit it- you're doing this because you're afraid; afraid that you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, might actually _feel_ something! Afraid that you might need someone!" Abby let him have it, but quietly enough not to wake Tony.

"Yeah, Abby! I'm afraid! But I'm afraid of what I'd have left when he finally can't put up with me anymore and leaves! I'm afraid that I'm going to give up everything I've ever worked for, everything that I am, and it won't be enough! It's my fucking life! I have the right to be afraid that we'll fuck this up! We always do! You wouldn't know-"

Tony had woken up when Gibbs started yelling, and came out to find Abby with tears running down her face, curling into herself. He walked up to her, and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close while she sobbed. Gibbs saw the mixture of sleep and anger in his former lover's eyes, and realized how cold they suddenly were. Compared to how warm those eyes had made for the past few months, warmer than he's felt in twenty years, their gaze now felt like someone was injecting him with ice water.

"You need to leave." Tony's voice was as cold as his glare.

"Tony…" Gibbs started, defeat and sadness in his voice.

"Leave- now." Tony held the weeping woman against his chest, diverting his eyes to the door to tell Gibbs where it was. He let his lids fall shut as he kissed Abby's head. Once Gibbs finally left, Tony led Abby to the futon where they curled up, and took turns consoling one another while they cried for the rest of the day.

Two weeks later, Tony was starting with Fornell's team, being trained as he went.

It had been a rough couple of years, switching to the Feebs, and letting Gibbs go. He'd drank himself into oblivion more than a few times, and Fornell had made him sober up permanently. He was finally fitting into his new life, learning to be whole again, and trying to live without constantly thinking about the man that had just appeared behind him.

Tony's eyes locked onto Fornell's for a moment before he steeled himself, and turned around. He'd heard from Abby, Tim and Ziva that Gibbs hadn't been himself since he left. The team was struggling to keep together. Abby and Gibbs had never fully mended their relationship, which probably had something to do with the fact that Abby was by Tony's side for the past two years, helping him through the worst times. He had been running with Ziva every Saturday morning for the past eight months since he had started his sobriety, and she had filled him in on some of what was happening. Tim was spending a lot of time training new agents for the basement, trying to stay out of the way of Gibbs after Vance forcibly appointed him to SFA. He hadn't asked for it, but Gibbs wasn't willing to replace Tony, saying that he'd eventually come to his senses and be back.

Tony saw the exhaustion on Gibbs' face, the deeper lines around his eyes, and the way he swallowed hard when their eyes met. There was something he never thought he'd see in those blue eyes- regret. It tugged at Tony's heart, and he had to take a deep breath in order to keep himself in check. He had known that he, himself, had aged over the past two years, but he was surprised to find that they had aged Gibbs as well.

"Tony." Gibbs' voice came out vulnerable and sad, and it did its best to tear down the walls Tony had spent the past two years building around him. It hadn't been a greeting, it had been a question, as if though Gibbs couldn't believe he was staring at the younger man before him. His eyes squint just a little, and his head of silver hair tilted slightly to the side as his shoulders lost a bit of their stiff edge.

Tony gritted his teeth. He wanted to do so many different things in that moment. He wanted to punch the man, scream in his face, stare him down, cry on his shoulder, and feel his warm arms around him protectively like they used to be before he was crushed under the weight of that moment in Vance's office.

He finally managed to offer a curt, "Gibbs." His eyes never left the sad blue ones staring back at him, and he felt every muscle in his face tense as he bit down on his anger.

Gibbs' eyes finally dropped, and he nodded once in recognition of the anger in an oddly understanding way. It threw Tony off, but not enough to let his face betray it. He turned his back on Gibbs, and joined Fornell over the folder on the trunk. Fornell began to explain what had happened.

It was their Natoli case. Weapons dealer by the name of Giovanni had been making good on killing off the family and friends of one of his runners turned snitch. The kid's girl, his brother, and a cousin were all dead. The rest of the family had been whisked away into protective custody, but his Aunt Roberta had insisted on waiting for her son to come home on leave that evening. They were sending a car for them in the morning, but they received a call saying that the young man had been killed as he was heading out to a club, despite the warnings not to leave their home. He hadn't even gotten into his car yet when someone drove by and shot him.

Roberta was surrounded by LEOs in the house while the three men discussed the case outside. They were going to have to process the scene, and then transport the woman into protective custody. Ja'Rell Thomas, and Pammy Brandonburg, two agents that had been working with Tony and Fornell on the case for almost a year now, arrived with Ziva and Tim on their heels. The NCIS agents looked up to see Tony's expression, and looked from him to Gibbs. Tony realized that their tension was as palpable as his own, but he was relieved to see them.

"McTim! Ziva! Hey!" Tony moved past Gibbs without a look or a touch, and walked up to hug Ziva, and even hugged Tim briefly in a bro hug before giving them the very short and somewhat redacted version of their case. They kept looking up at Gibbs nervously, and Tony wondered if they were waiting for the inevitable order to get their asses in gear, or if they were both just nervous about the history between him and Gibbs.

Pam and Ja'Rell had approached Fornell for a rundown of the situation as Tony talked it over with his old team. He could feel Gibbs' eyes boring into the back of his head just like they used to, only this time, he knew that he didn't have to feel intimidated. There was nothing the older man could do to him. _He's already done enough damage, _he thought. _Couldn't possibly do anymore._

Tim kept looking up over Tony's shoulder nervously. "Tim- it's okay. We'll deal with it. We knew this day would come eventually," Tony said, forcing a little smile, sounding surprisingly more confident than he felt. Tim took a deep inhale and nodded.

"He has not stopped staring at you since we got here, and has yet to make eye contact with me," Ziva said, barely moving her lips as she reached for her necklace.

Tony sighed. "Yeah, I know. This sucks. I honestly have no idea how we're going to make it through this case without killing one another." Tony dropped the hopeful attitude, and rubbed his face with his hand.

"I do not think you have to worry about him killing you, Tony," Ziva said softly, looking into his eyes, trying to convey more than what she was saying. Tony looked at her curiously, but Ja'Rell came to join them, interrupting their personal conversation. Tony forced a smile and looked up to greet him. "Hey! Ja'Rell Thomas, I want you to meet Special Agents Tim McGee and Ziva David."

Ja'Rell smiled, and shook both of their hands. "Nice to meet you! Tony's said a lot of good things about the two of you. Don't know how we managed to snatch him away from NCIS with the kinds of things he's told me."

"Well, working for Gibbs, we've all thought about coming over to the dark side at some point or another," Tim joked nervously. The rest of the group chuckled.

"So, who's processing? Gibbs fighting to claim the body?" Tony asked, trying to move the conversation on to the case.

"The M.E. called Fornell and told him he was going to come for the body. Should be here shortly. I think we're sharing custody. Gibbs doesn't seem to be all with it. Guess he was deep in sleep or something when we called him," Ja'Rell joked.

Ziva and Tim both looked past their new comer and Tony in order to take a peek at Gibbs, who was still standing there, frozen to the spot, staring at Tony's back. When they both exchanged unabashedly concerned looks, Tony froze.

"He still standing there, gawking?" Tony asked, fury starting to build within him. Ja'Rell looked at him in confusion before moving to turn around to look at the man behind them. At that, Gibbs dropped his gaze and moved towards Fornell.

"Uh, not anymore. What's going on?" he asked.

"Gibbs has never been able to see past the reasons why Tony left the agency," Ziva said tensely.

"I would stay clear of him if I were you, just until he gets over the initial shock of having to work with Tony again," Tim added. "He's not the friendliest on a good day, but he's been pretty grumpy lately, so this won't help things."

"Good to know. Thanks for the warning. Listen, I need to go talk to the LEO's, get some info. Pammy is on her way in to talk to the aunt. We gonna tag team the sketch?" He shuffled his hands between the three people in front of him, and Tony nodded, looking back and forth between Ziva and Tim. "Excellent! See yas in a bit!" Ja'Rell turned to walk away when he saw the NCIS truck approaching. "Oh! There's your people!"

"Thanks Ja'Rell," Tony smiled, waving at him as he left. He turned back to Ziva and Tim. "Grumpy lately?" he asked, raising his eyes up towards the truck as the doors opened.

"Two years is lately, right?" Tim said shrugging. Tony had to resist the urge to reach out and head slap him. Thankfully, Ducky and Palmer walked up to greet them and join the huddle.

"Anthony! So good to see you!" Ducky said, reaching out to clasp Tony on the shoulder. "It has been far too long. Probably six months now since our last meeting. We should really make time for some tea soon, don't you think?" Tony couldn't help but smile at his old friend, glad to see that he hadn't changed much.

"Tony! How's it going?" Palmer asked with a quick pat on the back.

"Was going pretty good until I showed up and found Gibbs here. Not that seeing all of you isn't great, but the tensions are kind of high, you know? I'd stay away from Gibbs if at all possible." Tony grimaced, and looked around the group as the expressions showed way too much understanding. "We should probably go get to work though before Fornell chews me a new one. He's not nearly as scary as Gibbs when he does it, but he's sneakier with it in a way that's just as troublesome."

"Yes, well we should get going. Jethro hasn't been himself lately, so he's probably going to be unbearable. The more we can expedite this collaboration, the better off I think we all will be." Ducky moved past Tony, and Tony turned to follow him a moment.

"Hasn't been himself lately?" Tony asked, bewildered. "Do I want to ask what happened? How long is lately?"

By now they were a bit of distance away from the rest of the group. Ducky stopped and looked Tony in the eyes, and Tony knew immediately that whatever he was about to be told, he wasn't going to like it. "Things have not been the same since you left, you know that, Anthony."

"This is the second time tonight that someone has said that things have gotten worse somehow. Please, Ducky, what happened?" Tony stared him down. Ducky saw the genuine concern, and felt something inside of him knot up. He took a deep breath as he stared at his younger friend.

"Things have not been the same since the Fourth of July," Ducky said quietly.

Tony felt himself take an involuntary step back. They had started seeing each other on Independence Day, two years prior. It was a cold October night, now. Whatever happened to change things, happened on what would have been their two year anniversary of sorts.

Tony's mind drifted back to that night.

_It was such a great night. The team had gotten together for a barbeque at Gibbs' house for lunch. Everyone had plans that night except for him and Gibbs. Tony had decided that enough was enough. He and Gibbs had spent a lot of time together for the two months before, hanging out at one another's places, going running together, just talking with beers at a bar after work. The dynamic between them was changing, and for the better. Tony had a perfect idea for something to do that night that they couldn't do any other night of the year- they were going to go watch the fireworks. _

_It had taken an hour to convince Gibbs to go with him to a park far enough away from the inner city that they would still have an excellent view of the fireworks, while being able to stay out of the crazy traffic they always caused. They put a couple of beers in a cooler with something to munch on to keep Tony occupied, and Gibbs pulled an old blanket out of the hallway closet upstairs. They drove to the park, and found a spot where they were fairly secluded from everyone else, yet had a good clear view of the sky._

_They joked and laughed as they waited for the spectacle, and when the fireworks started, Tony was mesmerized by the bursts of light in the sky. That is, until he turned to see that Gibbs was watching him, not the fireworks. They had leaned into one another, slowly letting their eyes close, and their lips met in a feather light touch of a kiss. It repeated and deepened, and neither of them saw another firework for the rest of the evening. _

Tony snapped out of his memory as Ducky's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I know he doesn't deserve it Anthony, but please, be gentle."

Tony didn't know what to make of such an odd request. Part of him was enraged that Ducky would ask something like that of him, but when he saw the honestly worried and pitying look in the older man's eyes, he realized that things weren't being said about how Gibbs was really doing. Part of him ached to know, suddenly pulled back into the caring, loving, mode that he had once lived out of when it came to his ex. Another part of him was angry, trying to find a smug satisfaction in the fact that Gibbs wasn't doing well, while he had managed to move on. As he stepped away from the M.E. and headed for the scene, he found himself becoming angrier and angrier at the fact that he was suddenly worried about the man that had crushed him, and taken away his life.

He kept going past Fornell, and made his way to the scene. He looked around, not sure of what he was doing standing there staring at the mess in front of him, but it seemed appropriate to witness the blood and guts on the pavement, because that's what he suddenly felt like all over again.

))))))))))NCIS((((((((((((

Two hours later, between the motley crew of FBI and NCIS agents, the scene was processed. They were saying their goodbyes when they noticed Gibbs and Fornell arguing by Fornell's car.

"You're going to have to put your personal feelings aside, Jethro. I am _not_ just going to hand this entire investigation over to you blindly simply because _one_ of the victims is a sailor! It wouldn't be fair to my team and everyone who has worked their asses off on this case for the past nine months! Deal with your mistakes on your own time! Don't drag them into the middle of my goddamned case! If you can't handle this, then turn it over to another team that can." Fornell was laying into Gibbs, right up in his face, the fullest throttle of his anger being thrown at him in a way that Tony had only seen his boss use on the most disgusting perps. He felt oddly touched at the protective nature he was displaying, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a sad smile.

He turned back to the NCIS agents. "Okay. I wish you guys the very, very best of luck. I'm getting the hell outta here. Call me or Fornell if you find out anything, and will someone tell Abby I'm going to have to reschedule, but I'll call her at some point tomorrow?"

Tim was staring at the altercation still as it was simmering down. Tony waved a hand in front of his eyes. "What? Oh, yeah, I'll tell Abby. This is going to be a nightmare. He's going to be…" Tim shook his head a little before looking at Tony. He sighed deeply. "Go on, Tony. Get out of here. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Thanks, McGee!" He gave Ziva a really quick hug, and took off for his car. He got into it in record time, buckling his seatbelt and driving off.

Ziva looked at McGee. "You can do this, McGee. Just remember, you are not who he is really angry at."

Tim swallowed hard. "Easy for you to say. You're not _supposed_ to be his SFA. In his eyes, I'm evil incarnate right now, trying replace his favorite agent ever and the man he's still in love with."

Ziva looked over at where Gibbs was standing alone now, staring ahead while Fornell drove off. "Do you really think it's too late for them?" Ziva asked quietly.

Tim raised his eyebrows at Ziva. "For a long time, I thought that Tony deserved better. Watching him since the Fourth though, knowing a little more about what's going on there, how he's holding on… it makes me wonder."

(((((((((((((NCIS)))))))))))))))

Tony went back to his apartment with dreams of taking a two hour long nap. Since the majority of the case was going to be processed by NCIS, he had a bit of leeway, and Fornell knew he needed it since they had both worked late the night before.

Once he opened the door, he tossed his keys onto the table inside of the doorway, and locked the door behind him, making sure to slide the chain. He didn't bother turning the lights on, but made his way to his room, stripping down quickly and falling into the bed, placing his phone on the side table.

He was exhausted, getting less than two hours of sleep after a fourteen hour work day the day before. He'd been processing the paperwork for putting the Natoli family in protective custody, on top of running research for where they might be able to find Frankie Giovanni, the son the Giovanni mob boss, and a psychotic up and coming arms dealer. He had a few possible leads, but they were still too fragile to start tugging on loose threads.

Their snitch was shanked in prison the first night of serving his dramatically reduced sentence. They had no problem making the deal with the kid because they knew that he would never make it out of the pen alive. Some called it justice, some karma, but either way, they got their answers and one more creep was off of the street that had been putting guns into the wrong hands.

Tony wasn't thinking about any of it though. As soon as he laid down in his queen sized bed, he felt the weight of being alone in a way he hadn't for months now. Sure, he had had moments in his bed at night where he wished he had the warm, strong body of the older man that haunted him next to him under the blankets, but this was different. This was an ache do deep, that it felt like a bottomless well, and every time he felt it, he wished he could finally be put out of his misery and drown in it. It was _that_ pain that had made him try to drown himself in the bottom of bottle after bottle of liquor and beer.

His mind wandered back to that Fourth of July, and what it meant to him… what he had felt when he finally had Gibbs' lips against him, arms around him, honest and open murmurs of affection in his ear…

Then he thought back to that horrible day in Vance's office. They had decided to move in with one another. They were happy… Tony was so happy. They had told the team, and the team had done well at keeping their mouths shut. Vance must have overheard someone talking though, because two months later, they were sitting in his office, being told to choose between their old version of happy, and their new version of happy.

Tony believed that Vance knew what he was doing by asking. He knew that either way, one of them would go. Things turned out for the worst in ways that even Vance hadn't expected. Tony moved on, Gibbs had become apathetic and angry. Something in the mix had ruined his plot, and now he was paying the price. They all were. Tony wanted to punch the man, but his ultimatum had made things real, and brought out the truth.

Gibbs' words to Abby as he yelled at her in the lab had etched their way onto Tony's heart. "How long until one of us fucks this us? We always do!"

Tony couldn't take that any other way than personally. It had hurt badly, and when he saw the tears on Abby's face, his pain and his anger collided, and he knew then that he would never forgive Gibbs- they were over.

So why was he lying in bed, unable to stop thinking about the way they used to hold each other for hours, unable to sleep, just being close to one another? If they were so damaged that Tony would never bring himself to care about Gibbs again, why was he aching to find out what had happened on the Fourth of July to make things worse for Gibbs? And was that really regret he saw in those tired blue eyes? He thought about how dim those typically fiercely blue orbs were tonight when his name escaped from Gibbs' lips, and he felt his heart break all over again.

He rolled onto his side and let the tears slip over his cheeks until he broke out into sobs, his body jerking and convulsing in heaving motions as he cried for an hour until he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_WOW! The response to chapter one was INCREDIBLE! Thank you all so much! Tissue Warning for this chapter if you're anything near as sentimental as me. I bawled writing pretty much the entire first half of it. Much love!_

Chapter Two

Gibbs stood in the middle of the playground parking lot next door to the house that their crime scene had just taken place at. Tim and Ziva had left without him, unable to approach him. He watched the caution tape billowing in the breeze as he waited for the ability to move. How had it gotten this bad? His first crime scene with Tony since he'd left the agency, and he was so incapable of retaining his professionalism that Fornell had gone off on him, suggesting he turn the case over.

He knew that was what he _should_ have been concerning himself with, but all he could think about was the cold stare that Tony had given him when their eyes met, and the edge to his ex's voice as he'd said his name- well, his last name. He had loved the way 'Jethro' sounded coming from Tony's lips, whether it be with laughter, when they were making love, or his favorite, when he was falling asleep or waking up, usually with the words, 'I love you" preceding them.

He wondered if he would ever hear anyone say his name like that again, then realized that he didn't want to. He'd had a true second chance at happiness, and he'd blown it. He ached in that way that reminded him of losing Shannon; that way that he now knew as losing Tony.

With Shannon, there was no way to fix it. She was gone, and there wasn't anything anyone could do to bring her back. He'd been too stubborn with Tony. He'd waited a year, and Tony didn't come back. He didn't understand what was taking so long. When he sat alone six months later on his back porch with his third beer, he finally admitted to himself that _he_ was the one that had made the mistake.

He stood in the parking lot, a light drizzle starting, the wind picking up and whipping it against his face as he let his mind go back to that day.

_He sat on his back steps, remembering two years earlier, when his yard had been filled with the people he loved; his team, his family. They couldn't stand to be around him anymore, and he couldn't blame them. He was constantly angry in a way that he hated, and nothing made him happy. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed. Tony had always made him laugh, especially that night in the park. That's when he decided that he was going to go to the park. _

_He packed the other three beers and a brand new bottle of bourbon into a cooler. He went upstairs and pulled that old blanket out of the closet, and headed for the door. He reached for his keys and hesitated. Deciding that he'd had too much, and that he had no intentions of driving home, he called a cab. Half an hour later, he was heading for that spot that he and Tony had discovered behind some overgrown hedges on a hillside. _

_That's where he was when his phone rang six hours later. He didn't bother looking at it the first time it rang, and he didn't even realize it had kept ringing for an hour afterwards. Had he bothered, he would have seen calls from McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky and the Director. He was in no position to work a case anyway. _

_He was surprised when a long while later, a hand landed on his shoulder, and Ducky dropped down onto the blanket next to him. _

"_You've got everyone quite worried about you, Jethro." When Ducky looked, he saw all of the tell-tale signs of the tears Gibbs had been crying. "You seem a bit out of sorts, my friend." He kept his tone a bit lighter than he felt like making it, knowing that his companion was in a desperate enough place to be considered unpredictable. _

"_Yeahhhhh…" he said, more breath than voice, drawing it out. Ducky nodded, waiting. _

"_I really fucked up, Duck," Gibbs' glazed eyes stared out over the city lights. _

"_What do you want me to say? I'm sure we've all made that quite clear to you since the day Anthony kicked you out of Abigail's lab." Ducky's voice was colder now, knowing that any platitude would be a dishonor to their friendship. _

"_Yeah, and now I've lost you all. The only people… I've pushed you all away. I don't think this is fixable, Doc." Gibbs felt the constriction in his chest again, and swallowed hard. _

"_Are you even going to _try_, Jethro?" Ducky turned his eyes back to the bloodshot blue eyes that had finally turned to meet him. _

"_I don't deserve to, but if you'll let me, I'll try. In all honesty, I'll probably fail. Never have been good with relationships, of any sort." He lifted his bottle to his mouth for another drink, and Ducky reached out to snag it, dumping it in the grass next to him as Gibbs looked on in shock. _

"_I hate to do this Jethro, but I must insist. You need to talk to someone. I don't care to whom you speak, but if you don't get some of this out of your head soon, I'm afraid that you're going to find yourself without employment. The Director, your team, not to mention Abigail and myself, were quite worried tonight. This is not like you. _

"_When Abigail traced your phone, and saw that this is where you were, she indulged me with the more detailed story of how you and Anthony had finally come to be together. I volunteered to come locate you, sending Mister Palmer to the site along with Balboa's team who ended up taking the case. In order to keep this off of the record, I'll be putting you on medical leave for the rest of the week."_

_Gibbs' eyes blazed. "What?!"_

"_Can you think of another way to keep it off of your record that while on call, I had to come out here to retrieve you, where I found you intoxicated and severely depressed? You're lucky I don't ask for your weapon, for God's sake! Jethro, I barely know you anymore, and I especially have never known you to not answer your phone for a case. Therefore, I must insist that you take leave until Monday. I don't care if you go to Mexico, build a fleet in your basement, go hide in the mountains, whatever you desire, but you must evaluate your life, and whether or not you're going to try to rejoin the living before you run out of time." Ducky looked at his friend's face and saw that the tears were streaming down it again. He had only seen Gibbs cry once, and that was when he had amnesia and had to be told that his wife and daughter were dead. Then, it was an angry crying, deep with despair and loss. What he saw now was no different. He rested his hand on Gibbs' shoulder, squeezing a little comfortingly. _

"_So, it was the fireworks that did it, eh?" he asked, hoping to get a bit out into the open. _

_Gibbs actually chuckled the merest laugh, and smiled, wiping his eyes. "Yeah, he wanted to come see the fireworks. Almost didn't go. Hell, took him forever to talk me into it. Just the smile on his face when I finally agreed to go made the whole night worth it, but there was just something so… _perfect_ about watching him watch the fireworks. He looked so happy, like no one had ever told him he wasn't enough, like he didn't have a care in the world or a scar from his past."_

"_He looked that way quite often over those six months," Ducky said without really thinking, lost in the memory of watching his two friends together at various team get-togethers during their bliss. _

"_Yeah, he did. And then I had to go and fuck it all up." Gibbs started heaving in silent sobs. Ducky pulled him to him, letting Gibbs' head rest on his shoulder. _

_The next day, Gibbs had woken up hung over on his couch where Ducky had dumped him. He felt absolutely ridiculous. He spent the next five days locked up in his house, the door bolted shut. _

Now here he was, three months later, unsure if he'd managed to make any improvement with his team, and standing in a parking lot at a crime scene he couldn't walk away from, drenched and cold. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep living in such empty pain. He finally walked to his car and got in. He had someone he had to talk to.

The sky had lightened into a dark, thick gray that a rainy morning tended to bring, as he slowly drove through the cemetery. He hadn't been here in two years, unable to face his girls after fucking up his chance for a second shot at happiness. He parked his car in the usual place, and got out. His shoes sloshed through the damp grass as he headed for the pine tree near where he knew two headstones would bear the name Gibbs.

The rain started coming down in a torrential downpour so dense that he wasn't able to see more than a few yards in front of him, but he moved towards that tree. Once he got there, he ducked down, sitting below the branches against the trunk. He was still getting wet, but he was able to open his eyes and stare at the place where the girls rested. He hoped that he was close enough to feel the comfort that visiting them would bring him as he started telling them his story.

"Hey Shannie. Hey Kelly-bear. You're probably mad at me too because I haven't been to see you, and that's okay, I get it. I just… needed someone to talk to. You remember me telling you that, of all things, I'd gone and fallen in love with a _guy_? My Second, Tony? Well…" he let a deep, wavering breath escape from his chest. "Well, our boss found out about it. We were called up to his office, and he sat us down, and he said, that we either had to give up our relationship, or one of us had to give up our job.

"We hadn't really been concerned about it. Other agents are married, date, live together, sleep together, but… apparently none of them are boss and subordinate. I guess that I thought that even if it were a rule, we'd never be called on it, because, well, we'd worked together so long, and our close rate was only getting better, and our team was only getting closer, and Leon and I were supposed to be getting to be friends, so I didn't think he'd do this to us if we kept it outside of work.

"Guess I was wrong.

"I didn't know what to do. I've been at NCIS almost twent years now, since a year after I lost you two. I knew that if I offered to take early retirement, Vance would never've let Tony take the team lead position, he has some kind of problem with him, I don't know, and I couldn't imagine my people under someone else. And you know how badly I'd screwed up with the last few attempts to replace you guys. But I was wrong- this time, it really was different. I was really happy." Gibbs' eyes and nose burnt, and he wiped away the stray tear that threatened to fall. "I didn't… I didn't fight for him. I should have. I shouldn't have let him go, shouldn't have let him get away. And he did. I was… Abby was right, I was scared. Now he's not even on my team anymore, and I've pushed everyone else out of my life, and I _hate_ who I've become, and I'm so sorry that I've let you down." He could feel some kind of knot that was in his chest, something he'd been carrying around for almost two years now, unravel.

"I'm here because I am about to throw myself into the fire. I need to make things right. I might not get to come out of this happy. At this point though, I'd be good with just "okay". So I'm going for "okay", and I've come to ask you guys to stick with me while I try. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and you both know how much I hate talking about feelings, so I need you. I need you to help me find the words when the time comes. I need for you to be there for me now, so that I can learn to be there for them again. I'll probably never get Tony to love me again, but if he just didn't hate me, then maybe I could be okay. If Abby, and Tim, and Ziva, and Ducky didn't look at me like I had ruined everything, then maybe… just maybe I'll be okay. I need to fix this. I don't have a clue at _how_ I'm going to, but I _am_ going to."

He felt his resolve strengthen, and stared at the twin headstones in front of him, feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time- hope. That little bit of hope gave him a sense of determination he hadn't felt in just as long. He crawled out from under the tree, and as he did, the rain stopped. He was still drenched, and cold, and soggy, but the rain had stopped. He looked down at where his girls lay, and smirked. "Thanks, Shannie. Thanks Kelly-bear."

((((NCIS))))((((NCIS))))((((NCIS))))

Tony woke up by his alarm clock. His eyes were crusted over with the salty tears he had been crying when he fell asleep. He rubbed them away, unsure of what he would tell Ja'Rell when he gave him a hard time about how red his eyes were, and as he took a second look at himself in the mirror, he half expected Fornell to ask to smell his breath or even breathalyze him. _God, if ever there was a time for a drink,_ he thought. He rubbed his hands against his face, splashing water on them. With a fresh spin on a case they were so deep in, he knew he wouldn't make it to a meeting for a couple of days. _Looks like I'll be calling Dale tonight instead, _he thought, making a mental note to call his sponsor.

As he brushed his teeth and worked on his hair, he thought about possibly calling Meghan and setting up some time with her as well. He hoped that the case would be enough to distract him from thinking about Gibbs, but if anything broke, (and knowing his old team, it would,) then he would end up working directly with his ex. That could end up blind-sighting the poor woman, and he had promised her he wouldn't show up randomly on her couch anymore. She had reminded him that he was welcome whenever he felt he needed it, but they were down to talking once a month officially. His last appointment was only four days ago. There was no way this would keep another three and a half weeks.

He slipped on a fresh suit, and scooped his phone up. He dialed Meghan as he rummaged for something resembling food in the fridge.

"Dr. Meghan Feldman," she answered.

"Hi, Meghan. It's Tony."

"Tony! Hey! How's it going?" she asked.

"Been better," he said, pulling the milk out and taking a sniff before putting it back into the fridge with a grimace. "Had a case wake me up last night, got to the scene, and Gibbs was there."

"Oh, shit. That's big." Tony couldn't hold back the smile that brought to his face. It was exactly why he was okay with going to talk to Meghan. She kept things real.

"Yeah, you're telling me," he answered, shutting the fridge and searching the cabinets for something to satisfy his growling stomach.

"Well?" she asked.

Tony was kind of surprised. She almost never wanted to discuss anything on the phone. She was on the FBI's dime, so it wasn't that, it was just that she preferred to read people's expressions. This must have been juicy for her in order to ask.

"Well… it sucked. He was there, and I wasn't ready, and I was…" Tony closed the cabinet door and leaned against the counter, his hand going to rub the tension from his forehead. "I took one look into his incredibly sad blue eyes, and everything in me tried to come apart. Everything I've worked my ass of for this year, trying to get over him, working past it, just everything. I held it together while I was there. I was kind of cold to him, but went on with the case. Talked to my old friends, and…"

"And?" she asked quietly in response to the sad tone in his voice as he trailed off.

"I missed them. And they told me that something happened to Gibbs on the Fourth of July that's had him acting differently, and they won't tell me what. It has me worried, and I don't want to be worried damn it!" Tony felt the anger swelling inside of him at the way Gibbs had managed to get under his skin just by saying his name and looking at him. "I want to stay pissed! I feel stronger when I'm mad at him! When I'm angry, I'm determined, and I don't drink, and I don't cry myself to sleep like I did four hours ago when I got home. I…" his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "I don't want to care about him, Meghan."

"But you do."

"Yeah, I do," he admitted. "Damn it! Why does this have to be so damned complicated! Why can't he just…"

"Just what?"

"Why couldn't he have just talked it through with me then? Okay, so he had doubts! Of course he had doubts, we've both had some pretty _messed up_ relationships, but did he have to give up like that?"

"Tony, your entire life, you had people telling you that you weren't good enough for one reason or another. You've told me yourself that Gibbs was the one person in the world that had ever made you feel worthwhile. I think you need to ask yourself a couple of things. First, was it Gibbs that made you feel that you had worth, or was it the attributes he brought out in you? Second, is that why you feel like you still need to care about him? Because he always cared about you? Or is it because you still want things to be repaired between the two of you? Not necessarily as lovers," she said, cutting off Tony's effrontery, "But as civil people towards one another on cases, or maybe, one day, being friends again?"

Tony sighed heavily. "I'm not sure I'm going to have time to think about any of those questions. I'm due in in about five minutes, and I'm still at home."

"I'll shoot Fornell a message. It's important that you figure this out." She could almost hear Tony nodding on the other end. "You going to make it to a meeting today?" she asked.

"Probably not because of the case, but I'll find some time to sneak away and call my sponsor." He knew that Dale took the Anonymous part of AA as seriously as the Alcoholic part of it, and he had never revealed his name to Meghan out of that courtesy. She had commented on it once, and commended his honor. That's when she admitted to him that she went to the meetings closer to her house rather than the office. They'd bonded.

"Okay. Make sure you do. Don't make me come kick your ass!" she joked, and he laughed.

"Thanks, Meghan."

"Hey, I'm free Friday at 1. Come by and fill me in." Tony smiled at her casualness.

"Will do!"

"See ya then."

"See ya then."

(((NCIS)))NCIS(((NCIS)))NCIS(((NCIS)))

Gibbs stopped at his house to change his clothes into something that wouldn't induce pneumonia, and he left his car in the garage with the windows down to dry out. He grabbed the keys to the truck off of the hook by the door, and slipped his badge back into his pocket. He took a deep breath.

_I can do this. What would I have done two years ago, when Tony was with me?_ He considered the question in and of itself. _Do I want to be who I was when Tony and I were still together, or do I want to be who I was before we got together? _He thought about how much happier he was when they were together, how much better his team was when he was happy. He would never be able to be happy with Tony again, but he could be happy with his team. He could win them back. They would probably never been completely open to things being the way they were, but he could do his part to try.

He took a deep breath and nodded to himself. _Breakfast and coffee it is._

When Gibbs pulled up to the office he had an assortment of stuff sitting next to him on the seat. He couldn't remember what anyone took in their coffee anymore. The only thing special he had remembered was that Ziva like that chai stuff. He hoped she liked it hot, because he never remembered there being an option for iced last time he went through Starbucks for anything other than a double shot in an extra-strong dark roast. He had more creams and sugars next to him than he would have ever thought anyone needed. He grabbed the drink tray and the assortment of danishes, and headed for the elevator.

He got off at the bullpen and wandered over to find McGee and Ziva standing in front of the plasma, looking through the files for their victim. He was young, but what caught Gibbs' attention was the commendation list. He had a lot of promise, and now he was gone. He took a deep breath, and let it out. Ziva and Tim both turned to him, startled. They had not heard him come in, and honestly, both had resigned to the idea that he wasn't going to. They were equally startled to find him holding coffee and breakfast. They looked at each other and the tray of coffee, then Gibbs.

"Had to go talk to someone. Take these. What do we know so far?" Tim reached out and grabbed the tray of coffee, while Ziva grabbed the bag of danishes.

Ziva sat the danishes on Tony's old empty desk, then picked up the remote and flicked back to what they had started with. "Our victim was merely another in a string of senseless retaliation, or so it seems."

McGee handed the chai to Ziva, and took the remote. "There's a problem with that idea though. The vic's cousin had been a gun runner for the Giovanni ring, and when he snitched, he was given a shortened sentence by the FBI, but his first day in, he was killed."

"They probably knew that he would be, offered him the deal, got the info and then let nature take its course," Gibbs said as he stared at the screen. He'd done it on a few occasions himself; dealing with the devil, playing with loaded dice.

"Right, so why do the revenge killings continue? Justin Natoli is dead. Why continue killing off his family?" Tim asked, taking a drink of his coffee.

"How long ago was he shanked?" Gibbs asked.

Ziva flipped open a folder. "Looks like two weeks ago. No one else in his family is active in mobs or gangs that we could find. There wouldn't be any reason to kill these people."

"He didn't give them all of the info. He was holding something out from both sides, or someone thought he was. If these were really retaliation killings, they would be more personal, gory. They are simple shootings. They're trying to shut someone up before they can talk. Someone has information, and they might not even know they have it.

"Try to find any correspondence Natoli had with his cousin. See if there are any emails, chats that came into that ship that might have a coded message in it addressed to our vic. Ziva, go back to the aunt's house. Go through all of the bags that came home with him, see if there are any letters. Bring it all back. I'm going to go check in with Abby. Call me when you get something." Gibbs grabbed his cup of coffee from the drink carrier, and the tea he had gotten for Ducky. He was going to go talk to Abby, but he had a stop to make first.

As the elevator closed on him, Ziva and McGee turned to one another. "What just happened?" Tim asked.

"I do not know, but I would have to wager it had something to do with running into Tony today, yes?" Ziva said.

"I haven't seen him look like that in months," Tim said staring down at the cup in his hand. "And I don't remember the last time he brought us coffee."

"I don't think I've seen him that focused since Independence Day. And I don't think he's brought us coffee since he and Tony were together. I wonder who he talked to." Ziva grabbed the bag off of the empty desk and opened it up to pick something out.

"He's in different clothes, so he probably stopped home." Tim took the bag from Ziva after she'd selected her goodie, and took it back to his desk. He immediately started pulling up the systems he required in order to get the information they would need. Ziva nodded in affirmation, getting her things together to head out to the scene. He looked up at Ziva as she came around the desk to leave. "Call me when you get close?" he asked.

"As always," she said smiling at his concern. They had started calling one another as they approached sites that they were being sent to alone a little over a year ago. Ziva had walked into what was supposed to be a completely innocuous situation, to find herself taking on three guys that were sent to search for the same guy she had come to talk to. She came away without injury, but had to call in for backup. Since then, she had been constantly going through sparring partners, and training McGee, who was surprised to find himself getting better under her instruction. He still preferred to play meek and mild until a window of opportunity came open, but he'd rarely been put in the situation to need the skills this year.

"Talk to you then," he said, taking a large bite from his danish before getting to work on finding the files.

Ziva headed out, and she decided another call was necessary as she got to her car. She put her phone on the hands-free cradle, and hit Tony's speed dial. She didn't think he was going to answer as she backed out of the space, already considering what to leave on the voicemail. On the fifth ring, he answered. She knew immediately that he was also en route some place, his phone tinny in that way it got on speaker.

"Hey, Ziiiiivah! Miss me already?" he joked.

"Of course!" she joked. "I thought I would call and check in on you. I know you weren't expecting this morning to happen like it did, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thanks," he said, a genuine smile gracing his face. "I actually have had better days, but I called Meghan this morning, and am going to try to sneak away for a meeting later, and if not make a call. I think I'm okay. Meghan gave me a lot to think about."

"That is good." She hesitated as she thought about what she wanted to say, but decided that saying it was probably the best choice to move things forward for all of them. "Gibbs was… well, strange this morning. He would not come back with us, and then when he finally showed up, only half an hour ago, he brought us coffee for the first time in over a year, and was wearing fresh clothes. He seemed different. Better than he has since this summer. I don't know, but maybe this case will allow some form of closure for you both, and you can move on."

Tony felt strange swirls of emotions in his entire body. His stomach flipped at the way he had affected Gibbs, his mind buzzed with a curious buzz as it tried to translate Gibbs' actions, and his chest ached at the idea of ever letting Jethro go. He swallowed hard. "Maybe."

"I'm sorry, Tony. I should not have said anything." Ziva cursed under her breath in Hebrew, driving somewhat slower than usual to allow her time to talk to her friend.

"No! I'm- I'm glad you did. Can I ask you something? I know you'll give me an honest answer." Tony knew that he was opening a can of worms, but he needed to ask.

"Of course," she said, dreading what she expected the question to be. "Just be sure that you really want to know the answer."

Tony nodded to himself, and took a deep breath. "I need to know what happened on July Fourth."

Ziva nodded to herself as she turned into the parking lot that Gibbs had been standing in earlier. She turned off the sedan and began the story.

"Well, we were being called out to a case, a little before midnight. We could not get ahold of Gibbs, so we met at the office. When we could not get ahold of him, they had to dispatch Balboa's team instead. The Director was not happy, and we all took turns calling his phone, but he would not answer. Ducky got us all together in the lab, and had Abby run a trace on his phone. He was in a park over on Central. Abby pulled Ducky aside, and told him something in her office with her door closed, and then Ducky left to go to Gibbs, telling us all that we should probably go home, that he would talk to the Director.

"We did not go home, but waited instead for him to return. When he did, hours later, we were informed that he had put Gibbs on medical leave for a week. We never found out exactly what had happened, but Ducky told us that he was finally coming to terms with everything that had happened between the two of you, and to let him be." Ziva reported everything from that day uninterrupted, and a little voice inside of her said to keep going.

"He has not been the same since. He has been quiet, pensive, almost lost. Before, he was angry, in denial, but he was still Gibbs. The past three months, he has been complacent. Until this morning that is. I have never seen him like he was this morning.

"First, he could not stop looking at you like you were a ghost, sad and broken-hearted, and then he would not come back to the office with us. He just stood there, staring at the crime scene. We could not find the courage to say anything to him, so we left him there. When he came back, he was changed somehow. He was focused, tired, but more present than he has been in months. I think confronting the fact that there is such a rift between the two of you this morning made him… wake up somehow."

Tony had pulled into the parking garage of the Hoover building. He sat there listening to Ziva talk about what Gibbs had been like the past three or four months, and then listened to what she said about how he reacted this morning. He again, wanted to feel smug about the fact that Gibbs was still hurting, but he knew that he couldn't, because Gibbs wasn't the only one.

It made him angry and sad. He wanted to know what had happened the night of the Fourth to put Gibbs on medical leave. He was more than a little worried. He wondered if perhaps Fornell knew, but judging by the way his confrontation with Gibbs went that morning, he doubted they had talked at all in the past year or so.

"Tony?" Ziva asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm here. Just… thinking about it all. Thanks for telling me."

"I would have told you sooner, but you were doing so well finally, and I did not think it would have been wise to drag you around anymore than necessary."

"Down. Drag me down. And you're probably right. I'm a lot stronger though now, and I know that I can handle more. I'm starting to wonder if Gibbs will be able to though." There was silence on the other end of the phone that made him cringe, because it could only be an agreement to his sentiment. He decided to change the subject. "So where are you? Does he know you're talking to me?"

"I am actually back at the crime scene. I have been sent to retrieve letters and our Lieutenant's belongings." Ziva realized that Tim was probably worried sick by now that she hadn't called.

"Is McGee with you?" Tony asked, confused.

"No. Nobody is with me," she said looking around at the reminder of the vulnerability she was placed in.

"You're on a scene by yourself? Since when in the hell does Gibbs let that happen? It's against just about every protocol in the book!" Tony turned the key over in his ignition, pulling out of his spot to head over to the scene.

"There is no one to come with me now. Gibbs is working with Ducky and Abby on what their findings are, not to mention most likely explaining things to the Director about where he was this morning, and McGee is running down the electronic correspondence between the Lieutenant and his cousin. McGee and I have a process in place, and I'll have him on the line with me when I hang up with you before I approach the scene. Do not worry," she explained.

"I should be there in seven minutes or so. Just… just wait for me, will ya?" Tony turned another corner, shaking his head. He had no idea what he was doing, but he was _furious_ that Gibbs would let either of them go out without a partner. _What the hell was he thinking?_ he ranted in his head.

"You do not have to, Tony. It is not the first time, and it will not be the last," Ziva shrugged as she looked around, feeling a paranoia creep in suddenly that she passed off as Tony's concern wearing off on her.

"I'm already on the way. Just do me the favor, and wait. Something feels off about this, and I really don't like it." Tony got off of the exit that led into the neighborhood. "I just got off the exit, just wait."

"I'll wait, Tony. I'm going to call and let McGee know that you'll be joining me though so he does not worry. I'll see you when you get here." Ziva continued looking around, scanning the area in the dim rainy day light.

"Okay. I'll be there in a minute." Tony disconnected the call and slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. "Seriously, Jethro?!" he yelled. "You're that fucking stubborn that you can't replace me so that your team has someone to have their fucking backs?!"

Meanwhile, Ziva called McGee.

"It's about time you called! I was about to track your phone!" he said when he answered without even a hello.

"My apologies. I was on the phone with Tony, who is now on the way here to go into the building with me. I am afraid he is not happy with the fact that Gibbs has been letting us go out to scenes on our own, and he's quite… vehement about it," Ziva explained.

"Tony's meeting you? At least I'll know you're safe. Tell him I said hey, and thanks. I'm almost into the ship's mainframe, and am about to go hunting for any emails sent from terminals logged in under the Lieutenant. I'll be in touch. Let me know if you find anything." McGee suddenly saw the shadow cross his desk. "Got to go." He hung up the phone, and looked up into the probing stare of the Director.

"Agent DiNozzo is with Agent David? Doing what, may I ask?" he said, looking down at McGee with that glare that said he'd better answer quickly.

"Ziva went to retrieve the Lieutenant's belongings because we need to go through them, and Tony is helping her because we still don't have an agent to replace him, and he doesn't like that she was going in alone." McGee very tentatively shot a glance towards the elevator. This had unfortunately become the usual moment for Gibbs to appear. When the elevator doors stayed shut, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Vance sighed too, but not in relief. "He's not going to let anyone else on his team, is he?" The sudden resignation in Vance's voice didn't bode well for Gibbs, and McGee knew it. He had to say something, and fast.

"He's waiting for the right person to fill the spot. Unfortunately, when any of us think of the right person, we only think of Tony. He's not the only one who doesn't want some random person trying to fill Tony's shoes." Tim knew he was late in voicing the opinion, but it was true.

"Is that so?" Vance asked, only slightly intimidating as Tim's frustration started causing a long simmering rage to come to the surface.

"It is. It has taken us years to develop the trust we have in one another. We've lived through moles, war games, double agents, cars blowing up, being sent to the four corners of the agency, and we've always come back together, stronger and better than before. This is just another test of that trust. There's just a bigger hurdle in the way this time." Tim looked Vance in the eyes, giving him a cold stare that would rival Gibbs', ready to take whatever was thrown at him. He was tired of living like this, and he blamed Gibbs for their separation, but he blamed Vance just as much. The Director had no business bitching about the best team in NCIS history falling apart since he's the one that initiated it in the first place.

"And I'm the hurdle," Vance said.

"The past is the hurdle. There were many people that had their hands in creating the situation we're in today, but they all came together that day in your office. Tony's past, Gibbs' past… they were finally getting over it. It was a fragile thing. Incredible, I might even say beautiful thing, but fragile. And now here we are."

Vance saw the condemning look in McGee's eyes, and turned to walk away. He had always felt that McGee was the weakling of the team, the easiest to push around, but for some reason, the look in the kid's eyes just now made him feel like he was being scolded by his father. When he looked over the railing of the stairs on the way to his office, and he saw McGee shaking his head as he went back to work, he felt twice as bad.

He'd felt betrayed and dishonored when he found out that Gibbs and DiNozzo had been sleeping together for six months. He had called them up after spending a day in fury, overhearing McGee and Ms. Scuito arguing in the lab about what they were going to be bringing to DiNozzo's apartment for movie night. Abby had told McGee not to worry about there being too much beer since Gibbs was around now to help DiNozzo drink it. Being followed up with a comment on how attractive they were together sealed the deal for him.

He'd called them into the office the next day. He'd been angry, and he took that anger out on them in the worst way possible- he threatened them, and made them choose. He tried to tell himself that he had revealed a toxic flaw in their relationship that they would have eventually had to of dealt with anyway, and that because of that flaw, their relationship would have been doomed. The looks on both of their faces as they sat there though, were permanently etched into his brain.

He had that sinking feeling that he had done just what McGee had confirmed for him- he'd ruined something important for both of them. He knew Gibbs' past was riddled with heartache, and when he had lost Jackie, Gibbs had been there for him. _What a way to repay him,_ he thought, the condemnation now coming from within openly.

He looked down at the photo of Jackie on his desk, and shook his head. Jackie had liked both Gibbs and DiNozzo. DiNozzo had always rubbed him the wrong way, but if he was what Gibbs needed, then he needed to find a way to get them in touch again. He was going to have to ask DiNozzo to come back to the team. He started plotting.

He knew that DiNozzo was going to the crime scene with Agent David. Maybe that was the key to the whole mess. He knew that Gibbs had been sending out his agents on small tasks alone, despite protocol. It wasn't anything he had been too worried about, but from the sounds of it, DiNozzo didn't like it. He was going to have to keep an eye on this case, and make sure he could step in at the right moment.

_Just need the right moment, and the right incentive, _he thought. _And this hell will all pass. Hopefully._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for all the love last chapter! Much love to those who guest reviewed that I can't respond to. Y'all are awesome! This one DOESN'T come with a tissue warning. In fact, it's pretty much a feel good chapter. Let me know what you think if you're so inclined! :) Enjoy!_

Chapter Three

Gibbs walked into autopsy with his coffee in one hand and Ducky's tea in the other. He knew that it wasn't from Ducky's preferred private stash, but considering the situation, he figured his old friend would see it as the peace offering he felt it to be. Ducky looked up from the table where their latest victim lay cold, and found himself rather confused to be getting a visit so soon.

"Why hello, Jethro. It is much too early to know anything yet about this poor fellow."

"I know, Duck." He sat the tea down on the table behind the one Ducky was working on. The doctor eyed it suspiciously.

"What can I do for you, my friend?" he asked, realizing something was quite different about Gibbs compared to the last time he had seen him. There was a bit more life in his eyes, despite how bloodshot they seemed. He pulled his gloves off, and stepped towards the tea. Gibbs hopped up on the cold metal table and took a deep breath, silently asking the girls to help him find the words.

"I, uh, I finally had that talk you told me to have."

Ducky's cup stopped millimeters from his lips as he stared at Gibbs. "Really? That's the most splendid news I've heard in quite a while. It looks to have done you some good. Does this have anything to do with your encounter with Anthony this morning?" He wasn't going to beat around the bush. He needed to see if Jethro would really hold out under the pressure of talking about this.

"Yeah, Duck. We're going to have to work together on this case, and it… it made me realize that I've got to make some changes, otherwise we're not going to get through this. My team couldn't- _wouldn't_- even approach me on the scene this morning. They left me standing there. I've lost their loyalty. Not that I deserve it, or that I would ever ask them to choose between Tony and I. Seeing Tony today, and the way he looked at me, and the way everyone rallied around him, even Fornell, made me realize that I had to fix this. Actually fix it, not just sit back and hope things will go back to the way they were. They aren't going to. I have to make some amends."

Ducky watched closely as his friend talked. It was the most he had heard Jethro say at one time in months, and the most pleasant thing he'd heard him say in close to two years. He suddenly had hope in him; hope that things would get better. The last time he had heard something similar come from his friend, he'd been so drunk that he wasn't even sure if he'd had the ability to remember the conversation. He smiled at him. "Whatever you need for me to do to help you along, please, Jethro, let me know."

Gibbs found himself smiling slightly as Ducky. He suddenly didn't feel so alone. His quest for repentance had begun, and he was already reclaiming ground. It was a good feeling. "I'm going to need a lot of help, Duck, but I don't know what to ask, and I won't know when to ask for it. What should I do?"

"I think you need to stop underestimating yourself. We have never stopped loving you, Jethro. Every one of us, Timothy, Ziva, Abigail and myself. I might even be brave enough to say Anthony, though the likelihood of him ever admitting that to any of us again is nil. Just reach out, come back to us. We'll be there. We've been waiting for you." Ducky wasn't lost on the way Gibbs' face changed at the mention of Tony.

"Duck, what makes you say that about Tony?" Ducky tried not to smile at himself.

"When he and I talked this morning, he was concerned about you." He wasn't about to tell that he had given Tony an update on what had happened that summer, but he was going to get his point across.

"Why?"

"You certainly aren't the same person you were two years ago. A lot has happened. Changes are more obvious when you haven't seen a person in so long, and Anthony has a way of noticing even the most subtle things, so of course he noticed that you were acting differently than usual. I'd be quite worried about him if he didn't."

"So he asked how I was?" There was a glimmer of hope that shone in Jethro's eyes that Ducky was afraid to feed into.

"He asked me to clarify some things that Ziva and Timothy had said. I did."

"What had they said?" Gibbs asked, looking confused now.

"I told you before, Jethro. We have never stopped loving you. They have been concerned about you from the moment you were both called into Director Vance's office." Ducky rested his hand on Gibbs' shoulder.

"How do I fix this, Duck?"

"How about you start with tossing out the one rule of yours that I have never agreed with? I believe it is the sixth." Gibbs glared slightly at the older man.

"Apologies are a sign of weakness," he canted.

"And just what exactly do you think you've been the past two years?" Ducky's voice raised in bitter anger. "Apologies are how you atone _for_ your moments of weakness, ya jackass! You were _weak_ in that office when you didn't make the decision that you knew you should have made, you were _weak_ when you didn't go after him and earn him back, and you were _weak_ when you let him walk out of here two weeks later, leaving behind everyone and everything that meant anything to him because he couldn't be around you! You have had two years to fix this mess, and yet you've been too_ weak _to apologize, and now you're in this predicament. There's another rule that you need to worry about that's more important than your pride and ridiculous rule number six- **clean up your mess**! It's about bloody time you did it!"

Gibbs sat there in shock. He couldn't remember the last time Ducky had yelled at him. What was worse was that he was right. What was _worst_ though, was that it was finally clear to him that even Ducky had been furious with him, despite the coddling he'd received over the past two years. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, never breaking eye contact with his friend.

"Do you feel better?" he finally asked, which brought an immediate grin to Ducky's face.

"Yes, actually, quite. Do you?" he asked.

"Nope! Just proves that this is going to suck," he said, hopping down from the table. "Thanks, Duck. I know what I have to do first." He started heading for the door.

"Jethro."

"Yeah, Duck?"

"You've already done the first part. One down, four to go."

Gibbs smiled at his friend, finally feeling like he was secure in their role again. Then he thought. "Four? How do you figure four?"

"Your team, Abigail and Anthony."

Gibbs froze. "Duck, Tony is never going to forgive me, no matter how much I apologize. I'm not going to hold my breath. I'll be damned lucky if I can just have you all back."

"Time will tell, Jethro. Time will tell." Ducky went back to the body on the table, dismissing his fatigued friend.

Gibbs shook his head. _No amount of time will heal this one, Duck,_ he thought as he headed to get a CafPow for Abby.

NCISNCIS*NCISNCIS*NCISNCIS*NCISNCIS

Tony pulled into the parking lot to find Ziva sitting in the sedan. He parked next to her, and got out. There was an odd, charged feeling in the air, and Tony recognized it as trouble. He wasn't sure from which direction it was coming, but he knew his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the look on Ziva's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately reaching to his holster as she got out of the sedan.

"Probably nothing. You have made me paranoid. As I said, this is not the first time that I have had to go to retrieve information alone."

"We'll deal with that later. For now, tell me what we're looking for."

The two talked as they approached the house, looking around for signs that they were not alone. Something felt off. They had only been gone from the scene for four or five hours at this point, and though the caution tape was still up around the area of the sidewalk, the tape on the porch was down and the door seal had been broken. If the clean-up crew had been here, they would have cleaned up the street, and had no reason to be in the house. The rain had washed away the blood from the sidewalk, but Tony could not stop staring at the yellow caution tape as it billowed in the wind.

"Ziva, something's not right."

"Yes, I see it too." She drew her weapon, and Tony did the same. They approached the door from each side, and both noticed the familiar smell right away. They looked at each other, eyes wide, and ran off of the porch, jumping the stairs, and heading for the park.

They were on their phones calling in fire trucks and the bomb squad right away. Someone had turned the gas on in the house, letting it leak, and they must have done it a while ago for the scent to be that strong. That meant that someone had to of been waiting for them to clear the scene earlier.

Ziva realized that Gibbs had been standing alone in the parking lot when everyone had left that morning. He had no backup with him, and he was quite lost in his own head. She suddenly felt horrible. "We left Gibbs here alone earlier, Tony. He could have been taken out if someone wanted. He was not in his right mind, and we left him there. What is wrong with us?"

"You did what he would have wanted you to do, Ziva. You know Gibbs. If you would have tried to help, you wouldn't have gotten anywhere. He's a stubborn pain in the ass. He's fine, so don't worry. For now, call Tim and let him know what is going on."

Tony shook his head at the oddity of their situation, and looked around. He saw an orange and white pole sticking up next to the house and moved to get closer, hoping to find a phone number for the gas company on it. He found a number and tried to call it, only to get a disconnected message. "Great, that's my luck." He went back to the lot a few feet away and heard Ziva telling Tim about their situation. It was drowned out by the approaching sirens. That's when he realized that he had better call Fornell to let him know the trouble he had gotten himself into. It was going to be a long story.

By the time Fornell got to the scene, Tony and Ziva had been told by the bomb squad that there had been a trip wire placed inside of the door to set off a spark that would ignite the gas. They were working with the fire department and the gas company to try to pump the methane from the house so that it wouldn't leak into the neighborhood. By all readings and estimates, the gas must have been left on for three hours, leaking from all four burners on the stove, and the gas fireplace pipeline that was sticking up out of the bricks.

Another sedan pulled up and both Gibbs and McGee hurried to get out of it. Tony looked over as they did, and he felt the breath catch in his throat a moment as he saw Gibbs getting out of the car, a flutter from the past hitting him while he was too distracted with more important things to remember to be mad at him. He turned back towards Ziva.

"I did not know they would come," she whispered frantically. "Maybe McGee, but with how Gibbs has been lately…"

McGee came up and approached them, his voice apologetic and frantic. "He wanted to come. He seemed really upset when I told him what you almost walked into. I don't know what happened this morning, but somewhere along the way, he got a heart, and I kind of want to find whoever he got it from and give it back, because frankly, it's making me a little nervous."

Tony cringed. Two years ago, Gibbs would have torn out of there like a bat out of hell to get to the scene, and never would have sent Ziva to it alone to begin with. What was sounding par for the course now had him worried, concerned, angry, sad… he suddenly wanted to pull his hair out and scream. A part of him wanted to go slap Gibbs upside the head so hard he saw stars, and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing sending Ziva out there alone.

He heard Gibbs holler for Tim and Ziva, and turned around to see him and Fornell standing with the fire chief and the lead tech on the bomb squad. Fornell gave him a toss of his head to let him know that they were moving in. They all headed up the stairs towards the house, Tony and Fornell taking up the rear.

Fornell noticed the way that Tony was glaring at Gibbs, and he asked himself how long it would be before things came to a head, and whether or not he wanted to be there. He knew that Tony was a grown man that could make his own decisions, but he really hoped that he would give Gibbs what for, and never look back. He had a feeling though, as he watched his agent's eyes, that underneath all of that anger, there was still a lost, sad, broken-hearted man, that for some reason clung to a tiny morsel of hope that maybe the past would re-write itself. He wasn't going to hold his breath.

As they headed into the house, they saw that it had already been gone through. It was torn apart. Books were knocked off of shelves, mattresses moved so that they could be looked between for hidden items, drawers gone through, and there was evidence that a laptop had once been a near permanent fixture on a small desk in an office. All of the desk drawers had been pulled out and dumped. Picture frames were taken apart, broken and crumbled as whatever was missing was looked for.

The duffle bags that belonged to their victim were also dumped. There was nothing left but clothes, pictures of some friends taken in their time aboard the ship and from their landfall in Africa, and a lighter.

"So, let me get this straight," Tony asked upon hearing McGee enter, as he checked for any possible hidden items under the bed. "There's some kind of information missing, that the mob thinks Justin Natoli had access to, but now he's dead, and they have reason to believe that information was passed on to someone he knew, and they would rather kill anyone that _possibly_ has the knowledge, even if it means they may never learn it. Meanwhile, they trashed this house, and set it to blow. Am I getting close?" Tony groaned as he made his way to his feet. He froze, realizing that it wasn't McGee he had heard come in, but Gibbs, who was also frozen, standing in the doorway.

Tony blinked, and forced his mouth to move. "Sorry, thought you were McGee."

Reflexively, Gibbs opened his mouth and the words tumbled out. "Never say sorry- sign of weakness." He realized just how stupid it was to say, and stood there rigidly.

Tony narrowed his eyes and stepped towards him.

"No, it's not. It's step nine. If anything, apologizing has made me stronger." He fumed as he walked past his ex, stopping when he was right next to him to look him in the eyes. "Maybe you should try it." He watched Gibbs swallow hard, and walked past him into the hallway.

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to provoke Gibbs like that, but it felt good to have the upper hand. His heart was racing a million beats a minute, and his palms were sweaty, but he had just spoken the first few full sentences to his ex in two years, and he was proud of himself for the way he handled it.

_Definitely didn't expect it to go like _that! he thought. He got to the top of the staircase, and stopped to turn around and look at the older man.

Gibbs had half turned so that he could watch Tony leave. When he saw those green eyes look back at him, he felt the words tumbling out of him again uncontrollably. "Why? You won't accept it." His voice carried every ounce of sadness he felt, and it pounded against Tony's inner shields.

"You never bothered to find out, did you?" he said quietly, the signs of a death rage boiling underneath, telling Gibbs that he had better shut up. Gibbs tried hard to listen to that inner voice, but he couldn't. He had Tony standing in front of him, talking to him for the first time in two years, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever have the chance again.

"I should have."

Tony had started down the steps, but froze when he heard those words. He swallowed hard. "Yeah, you should have." He stopped, the battle between the sadness and anger playing out in his head. "Too bad you couldn't find the balls to do it." He stormed down the steps, slamming the front door behind him, and leaving Gibbs standing there alone. Everyone else stopped their search to come see what had happened. When Fornell saw Gibbs standing alone at the top of the stairs, he ran outside to catch up with Tony. He didn't have to go far. The younger man was leaning against a porch railing outside.

"What the hell happened in there?" he asked.

"We interacted."

"Yeah, and reacted, I see. The gas isn't all clear yet, maybe it went to your head. We'll blame it on that." Fornell moved closer. "You okay?" He suddenly felt protective of his agent.

"_None_ of this is okay. At some point, we're going to need to clear the air. Not just for work, but for my wellbeing. I've needed to- just haven't been able to bring myself to face… him. This is forcing it to happen, that's all." Tony felt a resolve settle in him, and it calmed him slightly.

"Okay. Well, let's get out of here. We don't even know what we're looking for."

Tony thought about how many times the MCRT had pulled answers seemingly out of thin air simply from riding each other's train of thought. He thought maybe it was worth giving a try. Something was happening here, and if it could lead them to the Giovannis, it would be worth dealing with Gibbs in order to bounce ideas off of his old team like they used to. He knew the clock was ticking on the larger case at hand, and he decided to bite the bullet.

"Actually," he piped up reluctantly. "Maybe I should help get stuff back to their lab. I had to bail on lunch with Abby today, and it might help to read McGee and Ziva in on a few things. That way we're kept in the loop as well."

"You think you can handle it?" Fornell asked, a horrible feeling growing in his stomach.

"Yeah. I can leave if things get sticky. I think it's worth a try. We really need a new angle to come at this from before we're screwed. The fresh eyes couldn't hurt." Fornell raised his eyebrows at him, and Tony corrected himself. "Okay, it couldn't hurt _too_ much. Don't worry- I know where the emergency exits are."

"Okay. Make a stop before coming back if you need to." Fornell gave Tony that look that they shared when Tony was cutting out early to go to a meeting. "Go ahead, see Abby. Make sure to give McGee the heads up that you'll be on site." Tony nodded and moved past him to head to his car. Fornell looked at him as he walked away, feeling like he was losing his agent. "Hey, DiNozzo!" Tony turned to look at him. "Good luck." Tony smiled, nodded and turned back to his car.

He got in, and put his hands on the steering wheel. _Why are you doing this? _he asked himself._ You know you're going to have to see him, spend time with him! _

That's when he realized that there was a part of him that wanted to. The ice was broken now, and he had just heard Gibbs admit that he should have apologized. He groaned and let his head drop to his hands in frustrated confusion. The question was no longer, _'What does he want from me?'_ It was, _'What do I want from him?'_ The truth was, he had no idea.

NCISNCIS*NCISNCIS*NCISNCIS*NCISNCIS

Tim and Ziva stood at the bottom of the stairs with their boxes of evidence bags. Fornell had gone outside with Tony, and they looked up to see the expression on Gibbs' face.

Gibbs looked at his agents and turned around to go back into the room. He wasn't ready for this. They had a case, and his team was there, and he had no intentions of opening that wound with Tony. His mention of rule six was a natural reaction. Tony had no reason to be the one to break it though. He wasn't the weak one. And step nine? That had thrown him off. Did that mean what he thought it did? He hoped not. He felt horrible enough as it was without adding _that_ to his conscience. He sat heavily on the bed, and ran his hands down his face. _This day couldn't get much worse._

Ziva sat her box down on the table inside of the door. She braced herself for what she was about to do, unsure of her actions. Tim sat his box with hers. He knew what she was thinking, and was resolved to see it through.

"We cannot leave him like that again," she whispered. "It is time that someone offered him the olive branch." Tim nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it is," he whispered back.

They headed up the stairs together hesitantly, as if approaching a skittish cat, every step of the way knowing that they were about to be clawed. They got to the doorway of the bedroom, and looked in. Lost blue eyes found theirs.

Gibbs sighed. "Something I can do for the two of you, or are you here to yell at me, too?" Ziva watched the sad eyes try to glare. It was Tim who finally snapped, surprising the other people in the room.

"Yeah," he started, voice low and getting louder. "There's something you can do- FIX THIS! Put your _pride_ aside, put your _anger _aside, stop _moping_, and DO _SOMETHING_ ABOUT THIS!" Gibbs got to his feet as his anger flared, but Tim moved into the room, meeting him face to face only a couple of feet away. Ziva followed him, ready to separate them, knowing that even at his most angry, Tim wouldn't be able to take Gibbs. It threw Gibbs off though, and he stopped as Tim approached him.

"Answer me something Gibbs," Tim said, stepping even closer, fuming. "Do you plan on bringing the rest of us down with you, or are you going to get over yourself, and GET HIM BACK!"

Every muscle in Gibbs' body froze at the two implications of his agent's statement. The first being that he could get Tony back, that in some way, he could be a part of his life again. The second implication was that he was not only separating himself from the people he cared most about, but was bringing them down with him.

Ziva held her breath. She had never heard Tim go off, and she wondered where he had plucked the balls from. She had to hand it to him, when he found a pair, he used them well. The questions that were on everyone's minds were out there. There was no more dallying around them. They were in the open, and she knew that Gibbs was taking them seriously because of all people, it was quiet, calm, nervous McGee, standing up to him. He wasn't finished though. His voice was rough and passionate as he continued chewing Gibbs out.

"Two years ago, I wouldn't have thought there was _anything_ in this _world_ that would tear this team, the people _I count on _to be there for me, apart. I didn't think _you'd_ let anything happen to us. We've all trusted you to take care of us, Gibbs!" There was no mistaking the bitterness in Tim's voice. "We've held it together as long as we can. We need you back, and that means doing whatever it takes to make that happen."

"IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!" Gibbs finally burst out with. "HE'S NOT COMING BACK! And why in the HELL should he?!"

Tim was even closer to him now, pointing a finger at the older man that came deathly close to touching him as he yelled with so much anger that his face was bright red. "RULE NUMBER EIGHT! _NEVER_ ASSUME! _NEVER_ TAKE ANYTHING FOR GRANTED! You've been teaching me that for over TEN YEARS NOW, GIBBS! _TEN YEARS!_ Taking him for granted, assuming the two of you would screw this up, and choosing to let him go because of that assumption, taking what you had for granted… it's the _BEST DAMNED_ example you've _EVER_ given me for why the rule exists! You've made this mistake before, DON'T- DO IT- AGAIN. FIX THIS."

Gibbs finally broke away from the stormy gray-green eyes that bore into him, and looked at Ziva, who had been surprisingly quiet. She gave him a sad smile.

"We want you _both_ happy, Gibbs. We want things back to the way they were. It is time. You are both important to us. This cannot continue. If something does not change, it will destroy us. It is destroying you, and has tried to destroy Tony."

"What do you mean it's tried to destroy Tony?" Gibbs asked, the frantic concern coloring his voice obvious to all of them.

"That is not my story to tell. If you want to know it, you will ask him yourself. Perhaps he will be willing to tell you, but prepare yourself, it will not be put pleasantly." Ziva's smile was long gone at the thought, her eyes borderline cold.

"Fine." Gibbs turned around, pacing the room twice before turning back to them. "I'll talk to him, but after the case. He's always done his best work when he's pissed at me anyway," he added more to himself than his agents.

Tim and Ziva exchanged a brief glance. Things may never be the way they were, but they both knew that if their friends could finally talk, they might be able to move past the depression they had both been seeped in for far too long.

"Well?" Gibbs asked, looking back and forth between them, a bit of his normal energy coming back to him. "What the hell are you doing standing here? Let's figure this damn thing out so we can get on with it!" He moved past them and out of the room, clopping down the stairs. Ziva and McGee exchanged another look, Tim raising his eyebrow at Ziva as she smiled slightly and nodded. This was going to change everything.


	4. Chapter 4

_Moving along! _

Chapter Four

Tony walked into Abby's lab, CafPow in hand. He started coming up behind her, but she turned around immediately, and freaked out.

"Oh, my god! Tony!" She shuffled over to him, throwing her arms around him. "What are you doing here? Does everyone know you're here? Does _he_ know you're here?"

Tony pulled out of her tight embrace, and handed her the CafPow. "They will soon, if not already."

Abby took a big slurp of her drink. "You won't believe this. _He_ actually brought me one of these today. Do you know how long it has been since _he_ brought me a CafPow? Probably months, Tony- months. That's like, the biggest deal, and then he started trying to talk to me, and he looked all, like, sad, and nervous, and _totallllly un-Gibbs_, but then, the phone rang, and he got this call from Tim, and he ran out of here like, totally freaking out. It was nuts, Tony! It was like the past two years never happened!"

Tony took Abby by the shoulders and led her to her office as she rambled. He spun her and she fell into her chair, and then he closed the door before sitting down himself. She finally realized that they were locked down in her office alone, and looked at the unusually quiet man in front of her.

"Tony? What's wrong?" she sat forward, suddenly panicked.

"Gibbs and I had words at the crime scene just now, and I'm not sure how I feel about it."

Abby nodded. "Okay, spill. What was said?"

He gave his account of the confrontation, watching as Abby looked confused, then sad, then proud, then sadder, then both proud and sad. As he finished, she threw her arms around him. "You're so brave for coming here after that! Just, you know, standing up to the tension, not letting it stand in the way of the case, moving forward beyond it all…"

"Abby! I'm not… I don't…" Tony jumped up, his coat billowing behind him as he tried to pace in the small space. He folded his hands on top of his head and yelled in frustration. "I don't know what I want, Abs!" He turned to face her and saw the startled expression. He let his hands fall back to his sides and then dropped back down into the seat. "What I mean, is that, I don't know if I want to stay angry at him."

Abby blinked hard, looked towards the door, blinked again, and then stared back at Tony like she had just seen a ghost. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "You don't want to be mad at him anymore, or you just don't want to be mad anymore, because there's a big difference between the two, and one has me worried, and the other has me relieved, and I don't know which one I want to hear more, but I'm thinking that really…"

"Abs!" Abby looked at Tony with big green puppy dog eyes. "What I'm saying, is that I don't know whether or not I can let him be like this anymore. I can't be like this anymore. We're going to have to talk, clear the air, and move on with our lives. It's just really hard when every time I see him, every time I hear his voice, I go back to when life was different, when it was better, and I want it back… I want my old life back…"

Abby watched as Tony let that realization settle within him, that this is what he really wanted- his old life back, to forget that the past two years had ever happened, and to move on from that last dog-eared page of his life as he knew it when he was happy, and that happiness was largely due to having Gibbs in his life in some way shape or form.

Abby felt her heart break for him. "Tony?" she asked tentatively.

Emerald green eyes met pale green, and she looked down for a moment before looking back up into them. "Are you still in love with him?"

Tony felt the weight on him like a ton of bricks as he suddenly knew the answer to the question, and felt the burden of it. They sat for a long few minutes as he digested the realization, that yes, he was still in love with Gibbs.

"No matter how angry I am, and have been, at him, Abs, I have _never_ stopped loving him. I doubt I ever will."

"Tony," she said, getting to her feet and taking his hands in hers. "If after everything you have been through, you still love him, then you can't give up on him. If you weren't meant to be together, you both wouldn't be hanging on so tightly." Her words were spoken as fact, not as opinion, or a wish for them. They were the breaking of a harsh truth, and Tony felt his anger and sadness clashing.

He hurt in all sorts of ways, pain being inflicted from multiple angles, and he didn't want to admit that she was right. He wasn't ready to let go of his bitterness, his anger, his pain. They had been feeding his strength for so long now, and he had come to rely on them. He could hear Meghan's voice in his ear telling him that forgiveness was crucial to moving on in the healthiest manner possible, and that now that he was sober and able to move on with every other aspect in his life, he would have to forgive Gibbs in order to move past him and begin having relationships again. He knew now that he hadn't forgiven Gibbs because he didn't _want_ to move past him- he still loved him, had hope for them, and needed him.

"Abs, I can't-" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. "I can't."

Abby looked at Tony with squinted eyes, and then pulled one of her hands free only to use it to whack Tony upside the back of the head. Tony straightened up immediately, blinking hard.

"Listen to me, buster! Both of you are miserable without each other! Now, here's what we're going to do, and I don't want to hear a single peep out of you about it, do you understand me?" Tony didn't have a chance to reply, or react really at all, as Abby continued. "First, we finish this case. Get it all out of everyone's hair, and then, the two of you are going to talk this through. That means both of you putting on your big boy pants, and opening your mouths, and using your words, and if I have to stand there and _make_ you two talk, _I will!_ This has gone on long enough!"

Tony tried to shake his head, 'no' at her, but Abby moved into his space and pointed a finger at him. Instinctively, Tony backed up, not used to Abby being so forceful. "This isn't a request, Anthony! This is a demand! I love you both, and I can't take this anymore! And not just me, but every other person on this team is at their wits end. We can't do this anymore! You need to fix this!" Tony's back met the wall, and Abby's fierce eyes stared him down.

Tony swallowed hard. "I don't know how, Abs. I don't know if I can."

Abby crossed her arms, and looked Tony over head to toe before meeting his eyes in a sassy frown. "If you aren't willing to at least try, then you don't deserve to be happy."

Tony's spine straightened, and his face took on a shock, feeling deeply offended. His mouth gaped open at her accusation, and he felt like someone had just poured ice water on him. Abby had stood by him through so much over the past two years, and now she was telling him he didn't _deserve_ to be happy? He replayed what she had just said in his head, and he heard the key phrases again. _Willing to try, deserve to be happy. _Wasn't that what Meghan and Dale had been telling him for close to a year now? If you're not willing to step up and own your life, you don't deserve it? While at the same time letting him know that he does indeed deserve it, so why not step up and do what it takes to find the happiness?

"I've got to think about this, Abby." His eyes were burning, and his heart was pounding. "I need to make sure that this is what is healthiest for me. I need some time to think it through."

Abby smiled at him, understanding that in a way few did. It was Tony's motto this year- Is this healthy for me? Is it the best course of action? She could respect that, and fully expected the answer to be in everyone's favor. By answering those questions, as honestly as Tony had learned how to do, he would see that the two men belonged together, she was sure.

Tony on the other hand wasn't so positive.

He heard voices on the other side of the pane of glass as Tim and Ziva filtered in to drop their boxes of evidence on the table. He swallowed hard again, and turned to watch them. He missed being around them all of the time, working with them, and spending time with them unraveling cases. He tried to remind himself that this was just one case, that they wouldn't be working together again for long, and he took a deep breath.

He reached forward and pulled Abby into a tight but quick hug. She squeezed him for everything she was worth, and he didn't complain even to himself. She was solid, and she had managed to help put the ground back underneath him over the past year. He was eternally grateful.

When he let go, he put his game face on, and opened up the door. The swoosh alerted McGee and Ziva to his presence. They looked at Tony, exchanged an odd, knowing look with one another, and then studied Tony with broad smiles.

"It's about time you came home, Tony," Tim said with a smirk.

Tony was taken aback not only by Tim's words, but the fact that _he_ was the one saying them, and with such confidence. "I'm not back. Just thought we could bounce the case off of one another and try to find some fresh angles."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Glad to see you, then." Tim smirked and glanced at Ziva who glanced back with a squint of a wink, and then turned to Tony, crossing her arms.

"Yes, whatever you say, Tony."

Tony looked back at Abby as he rolled his eyes, and then saw she was exchanging an odd smile with the others. He sighed and shook his head, draping his jacket over a stool.

"Let's just catch these bastards. Sound like a plan?"

A murmur of responses came up from the group as they all started moving around the lab, casting glances at each other and Tony as they did. Tony tried not to get frustrated, but at the same time, it felt good that they wanted him back as much as he had to admit to himself that he wanted to be back.

Abby went to the office to retrieve her CafPow, and while she was away from everyone's view, she pulled her phone out and texted Gibbs.

_Thought you should know that Tony is in the lab helping with the case._

Gibbs' phone chimed on his desk, and he stared at it with a confused expression. No one text him anymore since Tony left. McGee had stopped not too long after Tony had left, learning that Gibbs only returned his texts with angry calls when they were case related.

As he thought about that, he realized that McGee had taken to not looking for help from him at all anymore, opting to figure things out on his own. He stared at his closed phone as he realized how much of an ass that meant he had been, and he rubbed his hands down his face. He was drained. His day was much longer than they had been for a while, and he felt himself invested in this case for the first time in months.

A thought crossed his mind that it might be Tony. He felt his heart flutter. He knew that Tony preferred to text, and if he had information on the case, it would probably come in text form so that they didn't have to actually speak. He swallowed hard and tentatively reached his hand towards his phone. When he flipped it up, he was both surprised and let down to see it was from Abby. He hadn't really gotten to talk to her that morning, but he knew that he would have to by the end of the day. He was going to have to find a way to really make it up to his team, but Abby was near and dear to him, and he knew that of everyone other than Tony, he had hurt her the most.

He opened the message and his heart stopped.

_Tony's here? Why is Tony here? Helping with the case? _Gibbs' sat stock still as he absorbed the fact that Tony was in the building despite storming out earlier. He thought of their confrontation at the house, and wondered if saying he was sorry would really help. He couldn't imagine it being the answer to their problems. There was much more than an apology needed. He stared at the message, his eyes focused on the word "Tony" like it was a puzzle he had to unravel, and he figured that in a way, it was.

He closed his eyes, thinking about the man he had witnessed that morning and again at the house. He was still the Tony he loved, only a little harder, a little less playful. He thought again about his reference to "step nine" and he opened his eyes again. He looked at his computer a moment before turning to run a search. It wasn't hard to find the information he was looking for, and as he ran through the twelve steps, he closed his eyes and sighed at number nine.

_Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others._

He rubbed his eyes and then closed the site. The understanding sunk in that his stupidity was toxic, not just for himself, but Tony as well. He wanted to wrap his former lover in one of the close embraces they had once shared, and protect him from the past. He felt that he was directly to blame for Tony's drinking. He swallowed hard again as he realized it might not have just been drinking. He knew that the program had been used by not only AA, but NA and various other groups. He couldn't see Tony using though.

Memories of hard cases in days long past reminded him of Tony's favorite vices- alcohol and sex. He froze again as horribly intense jealously flooded him, and he felt like his heart could beat right out of his chest at the idea that Tony would have sought solace in the arms of anyone else, or multiple other people.

The nervous energy in him was bubbling over, and he got to his feet. He had no idea what to do. He wanted to go down to the lab, see Tony and the team working together and find out if the old magic was there. He knew that his presence would only make it stop on a dime if he did though. He thought about fresh coffee, but he was already jumpy. He shook his head and looked out the window, lost in thought again.

"Gibbs," a voice said from above, startling him out of his thoughts.

Gibbs' head snapped up to find Vance leaning over the staircase railing, watching him.

"Let's talk."

Gibbs felt ice-water running down his spine, and he headed up the stairs, following Vance up to his office. Once the door was closed, Gibbs stood beside it on the inside, and Vance motioned him to the chairs in front of his desk. Gibbs came to stand by them, but didn't sit when Vance did. He didn't say a word but stared at the man in front of him, sitting uncomfortably in the arm chair instead of the chair behind his desk. He noticed something was off, different about the Director, and he took in as much of his body language as possible in order to determine what it was.

Meanwhile, Vance was watching every rigid move that Gibbs made, and didn't push the subject when he chose to stand rather than sit with him. He saw the dark circles under Gibbs' eyes, and realized just how much he had aged over the past two years. He had avoided his senior agent at all costs for a while now, and his guilt suddenly doubled.

"I have been informed that Tony is in the building," he said, intentionally using Tony's first name to gauge the personal reaction in the man in front of him. He saw Gibbs' hand twitch and his eyelids flashed in a blink.

"I've been told he's helping my team in the lab."

"So have I. I had the feed patched in from the security cameras to check in on them. It's been a while since I've seen them working together. Wanted to make sure actual working was going on and not a social call." He motioned to the computer monitor on his desk, and Gibbs glanced at it. "Go ahead- look."

Gibbs knew that he was being played, he just wasn't sure in what way. He went behind the desk and saw the group working in the lab. Tony was leaning over McGee's shoulder as they looked up something on one of the computers on Abby's desk, and Ziva and Abby were going through evidence, labeling things. Abby looked like she was laughing, and he saw Tony turn and smile at her. He couldn't help but smile as he saw Tony looking like he hadn't seen him in so long. His breath came in short pants and he realized his eyes were burning.

Vance's hand was on his shoulder suddenly, and he went cold again.

"Gibbs, I shouldn't have made the two of you choose. I'm sorry. I should have looked into other ways… other options. I had no idea it would turn into this."

Gibbs stared at the monitor, watching as Ziva threw something at Tony, and he pelted it back. They laughed, and McGee ducked as she threw it back, missing horribly and almost hitting him instead. He wanted to turn around and punch Vance, but he was frozen as he desperately tried to keep the burning in his eyes from becoming tears.

Vance continued slowly, not sure what to say, so he did something he had developed a hard time doing- he spoke from the heart. "You were there for me and the kids when Jackie died, and I thought we'd become friends. It's hard to have those from this seat, so when I found out the two of you had been together for so long, and you didn't tell me, I threw a tantrum, and now I've lost one of my best agents, and my best team is falling apart. The worst part though is that I've screwed over the closest thing I had to a person I could trust." Gibbs took a deep breath, not sure what to make of Vance's emotional speech, but he couldn't take his eyes off of a happy Tony.

"I don't know what is going to become of the two of you, but I hope you can figure something out. I have a proposition for you."

Gibbs' eyes flicked up to Vance's for a moment, then back at the monitor.

"You once told me that the team needed him, and it's become more than obvious that it's true. So this is what I'm offering. This case is going to require NCIS and the FBI to work together, and DiNozzo has obviously offered himself up to be the liaison. Do what you can to repair the damage with him, because at the end of the case, I'm going to ask him to return to us." Gibbs turned his head so fast to look at Vance that both men heard something pop. "If you've found a way to make amends, I'll find a way to keep it off the record if he rejoins the team."

Gibbs stood silently searching Vance's face for an explanation. "Why would you do that?"

Vance looked at the monitor with a genuine smile, then looked back at Gibbs, then back at the screen, drawing Gibbs' attention back the group working downstairs.

"They belong together, Gibbs." Gibbs couldn't believe his ears when he heard the director's voice come out sheepishly as he said, "And it appears the two of you do as well."

Gibbs wanted to punch him again, but he also wanted to hug him. The two extremes canceled each other out as he watched Ziva and Abby run to the sides of Tony and McGee as they discovered something.

Gibbs opened his mouth, but the angry words he wanted to say to Vance were replaced by words he didn't even know he was thinking. "I should have resigned. I should have retired. I should have said something, or at least taken the time to talk it over with him. He deserves better, Leon."

"Then go be better."

Gibbs stared Vance in the eyes again, trying to figure out what was driving the offer and encouragement. He was surprised when he decided it was a personal reason rather than an agency need. He felt a new kind of anger brewing inside of him, this one directed at himself for letting his emotions get so carried away over the past year that even Vance was treating him with kid gloves and feeling the need to get involved with his personal life. He glanced again at the monitor, and saw that the group was frantically working on something, and that's when he realized that there must have been a break in their case.

"I gotta go." Gibbs left the room in a hurry, Vance looking after him relieved that his agent was looking determined, and hopeful that maybe he might have just redeemed himself a little.

Gibbs rushed down the stairs, through the bullpen to pick up his gun and badge from his desk, and then down the back stairs to Abby's lab. He stopped when he got to the door of her floor. He tried to hear what was being said from down the hall through the closed door, but other than knowing there were voices, he couldn't make them out. He carefully opened the door, holding it while it shut almost silently. He began listening again as he padded softly towards the door.

He loved the sound of all four voices throwing out ideas and suggestions on what to search for next, working together again. It felt like it was supposed to, like everything was right in the world again. He smiled softly, and he thought about what Vance said. The team _did_ need Tony, and he had always known that. He had tried hard to get him back while he was afloat, and when Tony was undercover, he felt the void in ways that he could only relate to the loss of a partner.

Vance had told him that he was going to invite Tony back to NCIS, and he fully expected Tony to tell him to go to hell after what he'd put them through. He wouldn't walk on eggshells around him, because he knew that Tony would never come back if he thought that the team had changed, but the truth was, the team had, and so had the both of them. He wondered if it would ever be able to return to what it once was. Then the same thought hit him hard in regards to their relationship. He was sure that even if they did talk things through, there was no going back to what they once had. They had been very much in tune with one another for a long time, but now, he wondered if they would ever be able to find the spark between them again that had made their love so potent to begin with.

He finally walked into the room, and Tony immediately stood up straight and turned around while the rest of the team worked. Tony's eyes locked onto his own, and for a moment, Gibbs couldn't breathe.

Tony had felt the strange sensation run up his spine, and turned around. He saw Gibbs standing in the lab, and their eyes locked immediately. He felt a thrill run through him, and he took a deep breath. He wanted to be angry, wanted to be pissed, but Gibbs had the fire in his eyes he got when he knew the case was going somewhere, and he wondered how long it had been since it had been there. From what Ducky and Ziva had told him, and everyone had alluded to, Gibbs hadn't been himself for a long time, but that look in his eyes was exactly what he remembered most about Gibbs. He reminded himself that he was not on Gibbs' team anymore, and he needed to remember to act like it.

By that point, the rest of the team had stopped what they were doing and watched the stare-down between the two men. Abby started making a move for the door, and Tony put his hand on her shoulder.

"The case is a _little_ more important than our drama. Case first, extremely awkward conversation later." Tony turned back to the computer screen McGee was working on, and McGee looked at Tony before pulling up the information.

McGee started talking about what they were looking at. Gibbs stared at the group in front of him, and tried to focus on the case. Tony had just said there would be an extremely awkward conversation later, and that meant that there was going to be a discussion. He wasn't sure whether or not to feel relief or fear, but the butterflies had just been set loose in his stomach.

"There's a number of emails from Natoli and the Lieutenant. Most are pretty generic, but they started getting interesting a few months ago. He was asking for money, and then he finally starts admitting that he had gotten himself into trouble, and that the money was becoming imperative to his survival. The Lieutenant decided to talk him into coming clean, and turning himself in was about the only thing he felt he could do if he wanted to get off the streets and somewhere safer, which we know didn't work for him." McGee kept explaining what he found, but both Gibbs and Tony were hyperaware of how close they were to one another, and they were finding it difficult to concentrate.

Tony caught a whiff of Gibbs, and Gibbs could smell Tony's shampoo. He had spent a lot of time with his nose buried in it as he held Tony at night while they slept, or at least while Tony slept and Gibbs enjoyed having the younger man in his arms.

Ziva entered the conversation and broke the spell, bringing both back to the conversation.

"They must have believed that Natoli gave our victim more information than he actually had, and they tossed the house to make sure nothing was discovered that could be used against them. Why would they think that?" Ziva made eye contact with both of them, and Tony finally cleared his throat.

"They were emailing, maybe they were writing, too," Abby offered.

"Hold on. What's this?" Tim went quiet as he read over the email, and Tony bent over him to look closer as well. "_I've tried to get the cash, but it's a no-go. They were only offering half of what it's worth, and I know that I wouldn't be able to earn it back before she would notice. I couldn't do that to her. She already looks at me like a major screw up and failure. Looks like I'll be doing time. She can think what she needs to, but at least I'll know that she's the one person I have never screwed over. Do me a favor and come visit when you get back_."

"Who is 'she', and what was he going to take from her?" Tony asked.

"Sounds like he's talking about his mom," Abby said.

"Could be the aunt," Gibbs suggested from behind.

McGee started bringing up some files, and nodded. "Natoli's aunt had custody of him and his brother for a few years. They had to go back to living with their mom when the aunt got sick. He ended up in juvy for a while, and when he got out, he hit the streets."

"We should talk to her, see if there's anything of worth kept in the house or somewhere that Natoli would have had access to," Tony said.

"We?" Gibbs asked Tony tentatively.

"I can go alone. Someone could come with me, I don't care, but I'm going." Tony moved past Gibbs and headed out of the room. Gibbs looked at his team, and they all stared at him. Abby and Ziva had their arms crossed and McGee gave him a challenging smirk. That's when Abby realized that Ziva and Tim knew something that she didn't. She looked back at Gibbs and gave him a nod, encouraging him to go. He groaned and shot the ceiling a look before turning around stalking out of the room.

Tim looked at Ziva and reached out for a silent high five.

"What the hell was that?" Abby whispered leaning into them.

"McGee went off on Gibbs," Ziva said with a sassy smile, raising an eyebrow at McGee.

"Whoa! Timmy? You did _what?!_" Abby watched as he gave her a smug smile and a nod. She looked at the door and grabbed both Tim and Ziva by the sleeves and pulled them towards her office, practically pulling Tim off of his stool.

Once the door was shut, she turned to them and made eye contact with both. "Okay. I want details. Spill."

Tim began telling the story. "He and Tony had a confrontation with each other at the crime scene, and Tony stormed out. We weren't present for it so we don't know what happened, but when we tracked Gibbs down-"

"McGee let him have it," Ziva interrupted.

"Tell me what happened!" she asked Ziva, sitting down on the edge of her desk.

"After Tony left, we went upstairs to check on Gibbs. We left him alone at the scene this morning, and considering someone set the house to explode, I felt rather horrible about it. Not to mention everything with he and Tony has been dragging on long enough, so we went upstairs, and he asked if there was anything he could do for us-"

"Or if we were there to yell at him, too," Tim picked up. "And I just lost it."

"He did. He _yelled_ at Gibbs, and asked if he was going to keep bringing us down with him, or if he was going to step up and mend his and Tony's relationship."

Abby looked at Tim in shock. "You yelled at Gibbs?"

Tim nodded.

"And you lived?" she asked.

"Yeah, but get this, Abs. He said he wants to fix things with Tony, and he's willing to talk to him." Tim looked at Ziva, and received a nod. "Ziva said something about how she was tired of watching this destroy the team and destroy both him and Tony, and he got all concerned about Tony, asking what that meant. He's still in love with him, Abs. Not only is he still in love with him, but he wants him back, and I think at this point, there's nothing he's not going to do to prove that."

Abby looked at them both with shocked, wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth. "Tony is trying to figure out if he wants to get back together with him. He admitted that he still loves him, and that he probably always will, but you guys know how Tony has been lately. If he doesn't think this would be a healthy move for him, then he's not going to take it."

They all exchanged glances.

"We just sent them off to do an interview together," Tim said. "I hope that wasn't pushing things on Tony. At this point, if there's any hope, it's fragile, and I don't want to do anything to chance damaging it."

The tone in the room got solemn.

"I think the best thing we could do for them at this point is be there when they need to talk, and to finish this case." Ziva's voice was calm and sad.

"Yeah," McGee agreed. "Let's do this."

They all came out of the office and were startled to find that Vance was standing in the lab, watching them all through Abby's office door.

"Director," Abby said nervously. "We were just…"

"It's okay, Miss Scuito. That's what I came to do too." He turned around and punched in the code to close Abby's door. When he turned back around, all three of them were exchanging an alarmed look. Vance wanted to smirk, but he still felt guilty as all hell. "When this case is finished, and everything pans out, which we all know it will now that you're all working together again, I'm going to ask Tony to come back to NCIS." McGee felt like he was about to go off for the second time that day, but Abby beat him to it.

"What do you mean you're going to ask him to come back? You didn't ask him to leave in the first place! You made them-" Ziva's hand landed on Abby's shoulder.

"Abby!" she said sternly.

"What?!" she asked vehemently as she glared at Vance.

"I have already told Gibbs of my plan, and I've already told him that if he can find a way to patch things up with DiNozzo, I'll look the other way. You have every right to be angry, but I should let you know that you couldn't possibly say anything to me that I haven't said to myself many times over the past two years."

Ziva squeezed Abby's shoulder gently again, signaling for her silence.

"What would you like for us to do?" McGee asked.

"Just let him know that you miss him, and try to let things take their course. I saw Gibbs storming out of the bullpen in a bad mood. I take it that means the two of them got into it. Well, that's good, at least they're communicating."

"Actually, Director, Gibbs went to go interview Natoli's aunt with Tony." McGee's information made Vance's eyes go wide.

"Well, that's unexpected good news."

"Not so sure it was safe to put them in a car together so soon," Ziva said.

"I guess we're going to find out, one way or the other," Vance said, then turned to walk out of the lab.

Ziva let Abby go and the three exchanged looks of disbelief.

"Prick," Tim whispered under his breath as he shook his head. Ziva and Abby exchanged a look before they broke out into laughter, Tim joining with them.


	5. Chapter 5

_This one is a bit longer than the others. I realized that breaking down a hundred pages into a bunch of littler chapters was much harder than I thought it would be! Hope you like it!_

Chapter 5

Tony was halfway across the garage when he heard the door close behind him from the stairwell. He closed his eyes for a moment, but kept walking towards the FBI sedan. He got to the car, hearing the footsteps following him, and turned around. Gibbs was approaching the car, but as Tony turned around, fixing his icy glare on him, Gibbs' steps slowed to a much more hesitant pace.

"I could drive separately," he said quietly.

"Not a problem. Just no addressing the elephant in the room until _after_ we talk to Auntie Natoli."

Gibbs nodded and got into the passenger seat. Tony had underestimated the power of proximity. As soon as the car door closed and they were next to each other, all he wanted to do was address the elephant. Hell, he wanted to yell at Gibbs, elbow him in the face, scream at the top of his lungs, and crawl into the older man's lap to either be held closely and hear sweet lies that it had all just been a bad dream, or kiss the man fiercely. He slipped his seatbelt over him, and Gibbs did the same.

Tony turned over the ignition and pulled out of the lot. He felt like the car was on fire suddenly, and it took everything in him not to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. It was extremely uncomfortable, and Gibbs sitting silently with his head propped on his hand as he stared out the window didn't make it any better.

They managed to make the drive to Roberta Natoli's interim safe-house without saying a word. When they approached it, Tony pulled out his phone to make a call to the agents watching her. He let them know he was bringing Gibbs with him to talk to her, and then they headed up the stairs to the front door, Tony taking the lead. Gibbs followed, leery of how the situation felt. He wasn't used to following Tony's lead, but he needed to now in every aspect of the moment.

They knocked on the door, and Tony announced who it was. The agents inside got their verification and they went in, both Tony and Gibbs showing their badges.

"Hey, Tony," one agent greeted.

"Hey, Earl. How's the leg?" he asked. Gibbs watched them exchange a few words as Earl led them back to the kitchen where Roberta was sitting, eyes as red as could be.

"Roberta? I'm FBI Agent Tony DiNozzo and this is NCIS Special Agent Gibbs. We needed to ask you a few questions to find out who killed your son. Can we sit down?" She looked up at the two men with a lost look in her eyes, and nodded.

Tony sat down next to her, turning so that he was angled towards her. Gibbs remained standing next to Tony, watching the two of them interact as Tony explained what had happened at the house that morning.

"We have been reading over emails between your son and Justin, trying to find out why they would have killed him if Justin was already dead. It appears that Justin was in need of some serious cash, and he had asked if Matt might be able to help." He waited a moment to see if Roberta reacted, but all she did was sigh. "It seems that Justin was thinking about selling something that belonged to a woman close to him. Was there anything of value in the house that he might have felt overly guilty about trying to sell or hock?"

Roberta sat thinking for a moment. "I doubt he'd get much for the crystal wear, and I don't have any expensive jewelry. The closest thing is my mom's wedding ring, and it wouldn't fetch more than a few hundred at a pawn shop. From what I've gathered, he was into stuff that would require a lot more than a few hundred to get him out of trouble, otherwise he would have straight out asked me for the money. He had no problem asking me and lying about what he needed it for any other time."

Tony nodded, starting to wonder if maybe the item being taken was from his mother rather than his aunt.

"Do you have your laptop? There appeared to be one on the desk, but it's gone now," Gibbs asked quietly. Tony looked at Earl who was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, and saw the man shake his head the slightest to tell him no.

"No, they wouldn't let me bring it in case it was bugged or something," Roberta said quietly.

"Can you think of anything that was in your home that these criminals could have wanted?" Tony asked, afraid of the dead end they were running into. Roberta shook her head in a daze.

"Mrs. Natoli, do you have the letters your son sent you while he was deployed?" Gibbs asked gently.

"Yes. They're with me here. I wasn't going to leave without them. They're all I-" her voice broke and Tony reached a hand out to rest on her arm. "They're all I have of him now." She started sobbing openly again, folding over the table in a heap as she lost it.

Tony looked up at Gibbs with a sad glance, then turned back to Roberta. "Ma'am, I know they are very important to you, but we really need to see them." Tony's voice was as gentle as he could make it.

Roberta sat up, heaving, and wiped her eyes. "I'll go- I'll go get them."

Tony nodded. "Thank you."

As soon as she left the room, Tony sighed and leaned against the table. He felt drained suddenly. The day had been too much, and he wasn't sure how much more he was going to be able to take. Between the case, Gibbs, and the overwhelming pain he saw in this woman's eyes being echoed in himself, he was ready to call it quits for the day.

She brought out a large file folder and handed it to Tony. "Will I get them back?" she asked, steeling herself.

"Yes," Tony said. "As soon as we can get them to you, we will, I promise." She nodded.

"Thank you. I need to go lie down. I'm sorry."

Tony stood. "No, I'm sorry that you're going through all of this. We'll leave you alone to rest."

Earl saw them out, and down the stairs. "She's not been doing so well. That's the most she's said since she's gotten here. We've called in a therapist to talk with her tomorrow. She's all alone in this now. The rest of the family is in with witness protection, and we can't get in touch with them. They're in the process of being deactivated, and we have to wait until they're placed before we can find out where to send her. She's not really understanding it all. The shock has her in deep."

Tony nodded and Gibbs looked up at the windows of the small house. Tony reached out a hand to shake Earl's, and they said their goodbyes. Gibbs followed Tony to the car.

"She's not going to be much help for a while," he said as the doors shut behind them.

"Yeah, she's barely there." Tony handed the folder of letters to Gibbs who sat them on his lap while they put their seatbelts on, then opened it up. Tony looked at the rubber-banded batches of letters. He noticed the sad look on Gibbs' face, and he flashed back to a memory of them cleaning out Gibbs' attic together.

They'd been looking for something that Jackson had asked about, and they had come across a box with banded together envelopes. It had been a memory box of letters that Shannon had kept from when he was deployed. He remembered the hesitance, and then the lid being put back over the box before Gibbs ran his hand over it sacredly as he remembered something. The look on his face now had that same lost-in-the-past feel to it.

He wanted to reach out and squeeze Gibbs' hand, a gesture that had become the signal for, "You don't _have_ to talk about it, but I'm here for you". He sighed heavily instead, finding it hard to be mad at Gibbs when he knew he was having a moment of guilt that spanned twenty five years and two relationships. He turned the ignition over, and pulled away from the curb.

"I can't help but feel like there's something we're missing. There's got to be a reason the mob is killing off _this_ kids' family. What in the hell was so special about him?" Tony wondered out loud as Gibbs read through the letters. _This case is a lot more serious than one little gun runner with a debt, so why put so much effort into taking out seemingly everyone this guy had ever met?_

"These seem like normal letters. Most of them aren't in any order." Gibbs said, startling Tony from his thoughts as he started flipping through them looking for more recent time stamps. He felt like he could crawl outside of himself and watch him and Tony discuss this case as if though nothing had ever happened, but he couldn't believe he was actually experiencing it. He read through a letter where Justin was mentioned and started reading out loud.

"_I've been hearing more from Justin lately. He's having a rough time, but that's nothing new. Of course, that's the only time I really hear from him anymore. I wish he would have gotten out of town, gone to school in California like he always wanted. I know it's not fair to blame someone else for his mistakes and poor choices, but I can't help but get angry with Aunt Robin when I think of how things turned out for him." _

Gibbs pulled out his phone, and dialed McGee. Tony looked over at Gibbs, trying to read his expression. He saw the inquisitive and demanding nature on his face like it had always been, but now there was an shadow of exhaustion, and Tony felt it too.

"McGee, I need you to pull up information on Robin Natoli. What do we know about her?" Tony tried to keep his eyes on the road and not on Gibbs, but it was hard.

"Uhhuh. Okay. Yeah. Thanks." Gibbs snapped his phone shut. "Robin Natoli died four years ago from a drug overdose in a shithole motel room off of 95."

"That explains a few things," Tony mused.

"Yeah." Gibbs kept going through the letters as Tony drove. "I'm not really seeing anything in here. I'll have Ziva go through them when we get back just to make sure."

Tony nodded. They pulled into the Navy Yard and Tony parked the car. Neither he nor Gibbs made a move to get out. They sat silently, trying to decide if they really wanted to break the ice, or what they should say.

Gibbs wasn't sure what made him say it, of all things, but he glanced at Tony, and the words tumbled out. "Step nine?"

Tony glared at Gibbs, then sighed and nodded. "Yeah- step nine."

"How long now?" he asked quietly.

Tony looked at him again, wondering if he deserved an answer. "Eight months, twenty-four days."

"The program?" Gibbs asked again quietly.

"Yeah. Tried to do it alone for a while. Didn't work. Accountability does. Having Abby, Ziva, Tim and Tobias keeping my head on straight helps, too. They've all been very supportive. Neither Abby nor Tobias have had a drink since my last drink, actually."

Gibbs nodded. He ached to tell Tony how sorry he was about everything, but he knew that would require a much longer conversation, and they didn't have that luxury.

"July fourth?" Tony asked figuring that it was only fair to prod once poked.

Gibbs froze.

"Fireworks aren't the same without you," he finally said.

Tony's eyes closed, and he swallowed hard. He couldn't do this yet. He got out of the car and headed for the building. Gibbs packed up the letters, kicking himself. He shouldn't have said something so personal. He should have kept it informative, filling Tony in on what happened in details, not the emotional aspects. He headed across the parking lot and watched as Tony took the stairs, opting against getting stuck in an elevator with him. He couldn't blame him.

As he took the short ride up in the lift, he realized that there _wasn't_ a way to talk about The Fourth without getting into the emotional aspects. That entire situation was fueled by the emotions he felt and was still feeling. He knew they had to focus on the case now, but they had both just opened their doors a crack to look inside, and he believed that if given time, maybe they could let each other in.

Tony burst into the lab to find Abby, Ziva and McGee still working. It was getting close to 1730, and he had wondered if they were still there. He was kind of hoping it was just Abby.

They all looked up as he stormed in, frazzled and confused. "Roberta Natoli couldn't think of anything that she would have owned worth enough to get Justin Natoli out of trouble. Gibbs will be up in a minute with a stack of letters from him to his mother while on deployment. He's going to have Ziva read through them to see if she can find anything interesting. Meanwhile, it looks like we're back to the drawing board. We need to find out what the mob possibly could have thought Matthew Natoli knew that was important enough to kill him. Have we reached his C.O. yet?" Tony asked, not giving anyone the chance to say anything in regards to his disposition.

"He's going to be reachable by satellite in thirty minutes, and we are set to talk to him in MTAC," McGee said, looking frantically at Abby and Ziva before looking back at Tony.

"Good," came a voice from the door. Gibbs rushed in, dropping the letters in front of Ziva. "Handle with care. Find me something." Everyone started running to do as they were told as Tony and Gibbs started firing questions and orders for the search of information. Abby worked with Tony, running searches he asked for, and McGee found himself running more searches than he had for a case in over a year. It was clear to everyone that both of the older men wanted this case over with as soon as possible suddenly.

Abby was waiting for a search result to run back, and she reached over nonchalantly and squeezed Tony's hand, not making eye contact. She heard him sigh, and then felt his fingers squeeze hers in return. She smiled just a little to herself knowing that she had read him correctly, and understanding that the little things like that had come to mean to mean a lot to Tony.

Five minutes before the MTAC conference, Gibbs left, Tony on his heels. They took different routes again, but ended up in the same place. Tony saw the door close to MTAC as he was halfway up the stairs, and he scanned himself in. He smirked to himself as he wondered if Gibbs thought he wouldn't be in the system still, but he was actually at an even higher clearance now than when he left NCIS, so the door opened automatically for him. He walked down the ramp as Lieutenant Matthew Natoli's C.O. came up on the screen.

Tony chuckled, not able to believe his luck. "Captain Michael Shorter!" he greeted.

The Captain suddenly grinned from ear to ear. "Tony DiNozzo? What are you doing at this meeting? I'd heard you left NCIS."

"Keeping tabs on me, Mikey?" Tony said with a smirk.

"Something like that," the man on the screen said with a chuckle.

Gibbs looked back and forth between the two of them in disbelief.

"I actually did leave NCIS. I'm FBI now. We're teamed up with Special Agent Gibbs and my old team to work on Lieutenant Matthew Natoli's murder. I'm sorry for your loss, Mike." Tony made a quick glance towards Gibbs as he told his old friend of his change, and saw Gibbs suddenly go rigid.

"Thanks, Tony. Hello, Agent Gibbs. Yeah, Matt was a great guy. He was young, enthusiastic, driven, ambitious, loved the Navy. He pushed his way up really quick. One of the youngest guys I'd ever seen promoted to full Lieutenant. Thing was, kid deserved it. Pushed where he needed to, respected when he needed to, and there wasn't an ounce of dishonesty in him. Really sad to hear that we've lost him.

"When we pulled into port yesterday, we were switching out half the crew for a short run up north here to help out a stranded oil tanker on the Canadian coast. We're only supposed to be gone for a few weeks, but he was already aboard ship much longer than he should have been because of an issue we had in Africa, so he was one of the lucky ones that got to head home. He couldn't wait to see his mom again after everything that has happened recently with the family. He's had it rough not being able to be there for her with her being so ill."

Both Tony and Gibbs exchanged glances. That was the second time that they had heard that Roberta Natoli was ill, but they weren't sure of the details. Tony pulled out a little notebook and wrote down a reminder to find out more about it.

Gibbs' voice was demanding with a slight edge to it as he questioned their vic's CO. "We're hoping you might be able to give us a heads up on anything you might know, or anything that he might have told you about the situation. Seeing as most of the people directly related are not able to be reached or untrustworthy, and his mother is pretty incoherent right now, we'll take whatever you can give us, Captain."

Mike nodded. "I definitely have something that would interest you, which is why I jumped at the chance to talk to you guys. About a month ago, Matt came to me with a letter he'd gotten from his cousin, Justin. I did some sniffing around and ended up handing it off to the CIA. The letter said that if Matt was to hear from anyone named Frank, not to respond at all. This _Frank_ had found out that Justin had military ties, and he wanted to blackmail Matt into running weapons from some guys he knew in Africa, to the States. He didn't say straight out, but it sounded like we're talking about more than guns."

Tony and Gibbs exchanged another glance.

"In the letter, Justin told Matt that no matter what Frank told him, not to believe him, that even if he helped, they both were as good as dead, which is why Justin was turning himself in. My digging was light, and yet I was able to trace the interests of this Frank Giovanni, or Frankie as I think you guys know him, back to Lebanon. At that point, I enlisted a CIA operative we'd worked with when we had our own issues in Africa, and gave him the letter. I have a copy though, and I would be more than happy to send it to you. Just need to know what address is secure."

"You rock, Mike!" Tony could feel Gibbs staring at him, but he didn't care. He gave Mike McGee's information, and Mike turned around right there on-screen and sent the file.

"Okay, sent. If I can think of anything else, I'll email the information to that address, and you can reply to mine as well."

"Thanks, Mike. Let me know when you're on land for a while so we can catch up!" Tony offered, and Mike grinned again.

"Definitely! Until then," he said as he signed off.

Tony looked down in his notebook, scribbling. "That went well," he said perkily as he passed Gibbs to head for the door. He knew that Gibbs was fuming that Tony had taken over the conversation. and he also had the feeling that his ex was jealous about how friendly the two men were. Truth was, he should be.

Tony had known Mike in college. He was an engineering major, but they had Public Speaking together, and they'd gotten to be good friends. When they graduated, Mike enlisted and Tony joined the police academy. They'd caught up as soon as Tony and Wendy had separated in D.C., and after a few drinks one night, they had hooked up. They both agreed it was a mistake and left it alone, but they had remained friends despite it all. DADT was still very much in place, and seeing as most of both of their sexual activity, at least publicly, was with women, they hadn't pursued anything else. Getting together with Mike was tempting. He hadn't slept with anyone since Gibbs though, and he had no real intentions of it.

As he made his way down the steps from MTAC, he could feel Gibbs right behind him, and he felt the smug rush of making the older man angry and jealous. He heard the footsteps behind him as he headed down the stairs towards Abby's lab, anxious to move forward with their case so that they could tackle the bigger issues at hand.

"McGee! You've got mail! Looks like we might have found what it was that was so important to keep quiet. Abby, you won't believe who Matthew Natoli's C.O. is!" Tony moved to look over McGee's shoulder as he brought up the email, but he was smiling brightly at Abby, which had her thrown for a loop.

"Who?" she asked.

"Mike Shorter," he said with a chuckle.

"Wait, as in Mikey?" she asked with a smile, and then flashed Gibbs a look. When she saw how pissed he looked, she turned back around and stared into her monitor, bringing up what she'd been researching. She thought for a quick moment, and realized that Tony was intentionally trying to push Gibbs' buttons. She smirked to herself, and decided to play along. "God, I haven't heard you bring up Mikey Shorter since you and Wendy called off the engagement. That's too cool! Of all people. I'm sure he was _more_ than helpful!"

"Who is Mikey Shorter?" Ziva asked from her stack of letters as she exchanged one for another. As soon as she looked up and saw the way Gibbs was turning bright red, she wished she hadn't asked. He looked like he was about to kill someone, and she was suddenly on alert.

"A good friend of Tony's from back in the day. I met him one night at this club when Tony and I first started hanging out." She looked over her shoulder at Ziva, and then turned around to go stand in front of her at the table. "Totally hot, totally brilliant, and funny as hell. If he didn't have his sights set elsewhere, I _so _would have gone after him." Ziva tried to laugh it off and ignore the obvious torture techniques that Abby was using on Gibbs. McGee suddenly started reading Justin Natoli's email out loud, changing the topic, and Ziva sighed in relief.

"_Hey Matt," _he began._ "I have to make this quick, and I hope it gets to you in time, because I can't send it via email. I'm being watched online, and I can't send this to you digitally. I'm going to keep emailing you though from prison so that hopefully someone sees it and helps me. The guys I've gotten mixed up with are really messed up. I'm in deep. I'm afraid you might be too. I never, I swear, NEVER said a word about you, and I know you probably won't believe me, but I swear, I never told them about you, but they somehow found out that I have family in the military, and they are looking for someone to smuggle something big across the ocean. If you hear from someone named Frank, whatever you do, don't reply. Don't respond, don't let him know you know who he is, ignore all email, letters, any attempt to contact you. I'm going to turn myself in as soon as I make sure my girl is safe. Frank won't hesitate to kill us both no matter what you do to appease him. He's going to try to blackmail you, he's going to tell you that I'm dead if you don't do what he says, but I'm already dead. My only hope is to turn myself in and try to find safety in prison. I know that even there my chances are slim, but if I can get a reduced enough sentence, then maybe get put in solitary as often as possible, I might have a chance of making it through, then escaping. I doubt it though._

_Promise me that you'll let Aunt Robbie know that I love her. She was always more of a mother to me than mine, and I know that she's disgusted with me, but I hope that by turning myself in, she'll know that I'm at least trying to do right. I'm really glad I didn't take the bonds and try to cash them in, because she ended up needing it. The cancer is back, and she's trying to keep it together until you get home. She didn't want to tell you while you were serving, and she swore us all to secrecy. I'm staying away from her as much as possible because I know stress brings her immune system down or whatever, so please, let her know that she means everything to me. She's such a fighter, Matt. I wish I had half an ounce of the fight she has in her. _

_I know I've always been a screw up, Matt. You're the one person that has always believed I can turn it around, and that little bit of hope you have for me has kept me going this long. I'm so sorry you're getting brought into this. I thought I'd be out two years ago, but they own my soul now, and I'm pretty sure it will be burning in hell soon. _

_Thanks for everything, Matt. Love you, bro._

_-Justin"_

The somber tone that came over the room completely ruined Tony and Abby's jealousy buzz, and even deflated Gibbs' anger a bit. Abby reached for a tissue from next to her computer and dabbed at her eyes before tears could ruin her eyeliner and mascara, and Ziva sighed heavily from the table.

"Well, that sucks," Tony announced. "Roberta Natoli has cancer. I'm sure Earl knows by now, but I'm going to call him just in case." He pulled out his phone.

"I guess we got our answer about what he didn't sell, too. The bonds probably weren't mature enough to do anything with," McGee said, staring numbly at his monitor.

"Hey, Earl? It's DiNozzo. Does Roberta Natoli have her medication?" Tony's voice was the only sound in the room. "Yeah, her meds. I just found out she has cancer."

There was a long silence and everyone watched as Tony closed his eyes. His hand went to his forehead, and he rubbed his temple.

"Okay, thanks. I'll bring her letters over to her tonight." Another long moment of silence as Tony nodded and his eyes closed again. "Okay. I'll bring them in a few."

He hung up the phone.

"Roberta Natoli collapsed after we left earlier," he said looking up at Gibbs. "She was in shock after the shooting, and she didn't take her meds with her when she left. She's at the hospital getting ready to start a round of chemo. Earl says that she's asking for her letters, because-" Tony's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Because she reads them during her sessions to help her feel stronger. I'm going to go take them over to her."

Ziva started gathering them up for him. "There is nothing in here. I have been over them all at least once, and there is nothing that will be useful to the case. I can see why she would want them though." She handed him the bundle of letters. McGee reached up and took a paper off the printer. He'd blacked out the sensitive sections of the letter in the email, and left the second part where Justin had asked Matt to tell Roberta that he loved her. He handed the page to Tony, and he nodded as he looked it over to make sure it was redacted appropriately.

As he went to leave, he was surprised to find that Gibbs was on his six, following him out of the room and to the stairwell. He didn't say anything, because he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Part of him was angry and aggravated, but a larger part of him was grateful. Even if silent and awkward, having Gibbs' presence there would be helpful. He tried to avoid thinking about what that meant, and concentrate on the task at hand. Instead, he simply handed the letters over to Gibbs to carry as they headed towards the garage.

They drove silently to the hospital, and once inside, headed to the corridor he was told to come to. Earl and a Marshall were standing guard at the sliding glass door to a room lit by only a side lamp and group of monitors.

"Hey, Earl," Tony greeted somberly.

"Hey, Tony. Agent Gibbs. Those her letters?" he asked.

"Yeah. How is she?"

Earl shook his head. "She's stage four. She's beaten stage four before you know? But she doesn't have her family with her this time, and she's a lot weaker this time… they don't know how much fight she has in her this round. She wasn't with it when we brought her in, but her doctor happened to be on call. What luck, huh?"

"Wow, yeah," Tony said in surprise.

"So, he tells us that she's been taking a medication to help her sleep at night because of all the pain. Considering she didn't sleep at all last night, and then didn't have her meds this morning, she got a little muddled. She didn't know too much of what was going on. They got some meds into her right away, and she's much more alert now. She was scheduled for a round of chemo today, so they went ahead and are doing it since she's here. She's got another round scheduled for next Monday. She'll stay here under protective custody until then, and she'll be going into the program under a new identity with the same medical history so that way she can pick up where she left off. Only her doctor will know that she's not who she says she is, though he won't know who she was. This is one of those tricky situations where there just isn't an easy answer."

Tony nodded. "Are we able to take her the letters, or does a nurse have to do it?"

"Nurse will have to. Limited contact during the chemo."

Tony nodded again, watching as Earl reached for the letters. At that point he saw a nurse in scrubs walking by with a chart. She had stopped at the room next to them, but he interrupted her, flashing the famous DiNozzo smile. Gibbs saw and squinted hard at the nurse as she responded to it. She took the packet of letters and nodded at Tony, walking past all of the men gathered by the door to take it in to Roberta.

"Take care, Earl. If you need anything, let me know." Tony shook his hand, and Gibbs turned to follow him out.

Once they were out in the car, Gibbs turned to Tony. "There a reason you didn't hand the letters off to Earl?" he asked.

"Yup." Tony turned the key over in the ignition, and smirked at Gibbs' observation.

"I wrote my cell number at the bottom of the letter from Justin to Matt in case she needed someone," Gibbs said almost sheepishly. "Glad I did."

Tony laughed as he pulled his car out of the parking spot in the garage of the hospital. Jethro found himself smiling genuinely for the first time in almost two years. The sound of Tony's laughter was like oxygen to him, and he felt like he could finally breathe again.

While they were waiting in line at the pay booth to get out of the garage, Tony felt words starting to leave his mouth. He knew he wasn't supposed to discuss it, but he couldn't not tell Gibbs the challenge they were up against. The man was like a truth magnet, and it drew the situation out of him.

"Earl was shot in a drive-by shooting two months back. There was minor damage to his leg, and he's fine enough to protect Roberta Natoli. Though the official word is that they don't know who did the drive-by, it was one of the Giovanni crew. He wasn't involved in the case until then. He's intentionally paired with it now to follow where he leads, which is hopefully nowhere. He has a very sick charge in his care, which was never the intention, so this is going to get messy if he tries to do something with her. There are three others on rotation with him and the Marshalls, and they all know the situation they are up against. They have a contingency plan and a back-up contingency plan in place. I'm hoping that Earl isn't as dirty as he looks, and that he just got too close to something without realizing, but there are too many little pieces of inconclusive evidence, so we're just playing it by ear." Tony paid the lady in the booth and then drove off. Once back on the road, Gibbs sighed.

"We're going to have to watch for the dirty ones through this entire case. Who else is working on it on your side of things?" Gibbs hated referring to Tony being with the FBI and not NCIS, and the discussion he had with Vance earlier floated through his head.

"Pammy Brandonberg and Ja'Rell Thomas. Very trustworthy, which is why they're on the case. We pulled them in from California for this one. They are temporarily reassigned to us until the mob is taken down. They've been with us for eight months now, and we're hoping to have them home by Christmas, if not Thanksgiving. They were hand chosen. They were together as a team in San Diego, and they are an independent team here attached to Fornell and I. Neither of them have ever worked a mob case, lived in D.C. or the upper east coast, and as a team, they have an impeccable record. Neither of them have families that the mob could go after, and neither of them have any friends in the area or at least had any prior to moving out here for this case. They have been working on smaller cases off and on, but their main concern is finding a way to bring down the Giovannis."

Gibbs felt that there was something Tony wasn't telling them. He'd been feeling it at the edges of his mind, but with their relationship issues taking up most of his thoughts, he had been tentative about pushing for the information, but it was becoming apparent that something was different about this case than just dealing with the mob. "Why put so much effort into taking this mob down compared to all the others out there that are running weapons, drugs and trafficking?"

Tony grit his teeth, fighting with himself, then suddenly pulled over on the side of the highway. Jethro looked at him in confusion, and saw that a very dark look had come over him.

"Leave your phone in here." Tony checked for oncoming traffic and jumped out, tossing his phone on the seat. He left the keys on the trunk of the car, and then walked twenty paces away from it. Jethro left his phone in the car, and then followed Tony. The traffic was whizzing by on the Beltway next to them, and a concrete sound barrier wall was on the other side.

"I'm about to ask you to keep something from the team, and I need to know that you're willing to do it." Tony's eyes bored into Gibbs', and Gibbs knew that this wasn't Tony talking, but Agent DiNozzo. He nodded slowly, and Tony nodded back curtly. "If I find out you told them, or the Director, I will make your life a living hell, and that is _if_ you live through what I do to you first." Tony saw Gibbs swallow, and knew that he was getting his point across.

"Frankie Giovanni isn't just the gun runner for his daddy's mob. There has been chatter that he's been planning an attack on the Pentagon, and possibly even the White House. He's for hire. He's setting up a front like it's all about the money, but in reality, he wants to bring the government down, or at least weaken it, so the mob can take over. Problem is, we don't know where he is, who he's been speaking to, or what he's planning.

"Ja'Rell and Pammy know that they might not come out of this alive. When the time comes, they're the team going in. It doesn't matter what we have to do at this point, the Giovannis are going down. We have Black Level Security clearance, and a blanket warrant for anything we need from the courts, as well as a Presidential Pardon for any actions we take in good faith during this investigation. Your people don't have that coverage, Gibbs. If we can find a way in, you need to know that you're not protected, and that you need to turn it over."

Gibbs looked at Tony in shock. He and Vance were the only people in NCIS who had Black Level clearance, and who even knew it existed. It suddenly dawned on him how Tony was able to get into MTAC. With his credentials, there wasn't a locked government door in America Tony's iris wouldn't open, and plenty overseas.

"What do they think you're going to have to do that will require the pardon?" Gibbs asked as quietly as he could over the roar of the expressway.

"We had the chance to take him out eight months ago, but we didn't have the pardon yet, otherwise, we would have gunned him down in the crowd. We've established there are nine other men in the D.C. area with similar enough facial features and physical build that could cause a false positive on quick scan video feed from security cameras. This was done with the use of the D.C., Virginia and Maryland BMV databases, but the data recognition software is reaching out further. All security feeds are being monitored constantly by Homeland for this guy. If we can find him, we're taking him out, and if we can establish an isolated headquarters, we have permission to bomb it."

"On U.S. soil?" Gibbs asked in disbelief.

"Yes. _That_ is why we need the pardon. My hope is that with your team's help, and my team's background, we can find the mob and take them down by firefight instead. There will not be a trial, Gibbs. When we find them, it ends."

"Shit, Tony."

Tony nodded. "So, we really need to find them, and fast, especially if they're putting feelers out and trying to get someone to bring them a large bomb, or possibly even nuclear material if it's coming from Lebanon. The case has been going on for so long now that I don't really feel the urgency anymore. I don't feel the stress. Enough has been going on in my own head to outweigh it, but knowing that we're coming close to finding a real lead is starting to put the pressure on, and I really don't want Ziva, McGee and Abby caught up in this mess."

Gibbs spun on his heels in frustration, then turned back to Tony, moving quickly to stand incredibly close to him. "I don't want _you_ caught up in this mess!" he suddenly shouted. "Why? Why do you have to be so close to this?"

"It's my job, Gibbs!" Tony shouted back. "This is what I do! I catch the bad guys. In this case, I'm going to kill the bad guys, and all but deliver their heads to the President on a silver platter! I like my job- it helps take my mind of things."

"I don't want you hurt," Gibbs said so quietly that Tony suddenly wasn't Agent DiNozzo anymore, but Tony. He swallowed hard, trying to shove the emotions aside.

"You don't get to want anything when it comes to me anymore, Jethro." He turned and headed back towards the car, scooping up the keys off the trunk and sneaking past traffic until he was safely in the driver's seat again, his phone in his hands. He text McGee, and had him forward the emailed letter to Fornell, and then text Fornell to let him know he'd be back to the office to fill him in after dropping Gibbs off at NCIS and going to a meeting. As he hit send, Gibbs opened the passenger side to the car and got in, clipping his phone back to his belt.

They both sat in silence for a long few minutes.

"If Brandonburg and Thomas fail, you're next in line to go in, aren't you?" he asked Tony quietly.

"They won't fail," Tony said quietly.

"Goddamn it! Answer me, Tony!"

"Yes! If they fail, I'm next! No family since Dad died, no kids, no wife or husband- nobody! I'm next in line if they fail. Fornell has Emily! It's not going to be him! It will be me. _I'm_ the contingency plan." The quiet fell over the car again. "I'm the only one that will be close enough to know what's going on, and I'll be going in alone. They _won't_ fail though, and if we can find the location, and know for sure he's going to be there, they won't have to go in at all."

"That's it then. We'll find the damn location! Let's get back to work," Gibbs said, reaching for his seatbelt and clicking it into place with a shaky hand.

"No. I'm taking you back, and you guys need to rest. I'm going to a meeting, then I'm going to catch up with Fornell about what's happened so far. Tomorrow morning, we'll get up, and we'll do it all over again."

"What the hell kinda meeting do you have scheduled at 2000 hours?" Gibbs said, then looked at Tony as he turned the key over in the car, and got back into traffic. When Tony didn't answer, it dawned on him. "Oh- _meeting_." They drove silently the rest of the way to the Navy Yard. Tony got the wave through at the gate, and he pulled in to let Gibbs out.

Gibbs turned to look at him, and Tony knew that the man he looked as was Jethro, not Gibbs.

"Tony, I know it probably doesn't mean a damn thing to you, but I really am sorry about everything. I… I'm an idiot, and I should have talked to you before I let my insecurities get between us, and I've regretted it every moment you've been gone. If I could fix it, I would, but I know I can't. I just thought you should know. I don't want you hurt, Tony. You-"

Tony was sitting stock still, trying his hardest not to show any of the emotions he was feeling, because there were simply too many of them.

"You still mean just as much to me now as you did then. I don't like this plan at all, and I'm going to find a way around it for you."

Tony didn't say anything, he didn't move, he just watched as if though he was outside of himself. He watched Jethro apologize, heard him say that he was still important to him, and heard protective words come out of his mouth. He just stared on.

Jethro got out of the car, and headed into the building, and Tony drove off, trying hard not to feel anything that was just said.


	6. Chapter 6

_Ready? _

Chapter 6

Tony caught the end of the Beltway Cops meeting and then sat down with Fornell. He explained everything that had happened, and Fornell groaned.

"Really? Cancer? Why couldn't we have put him with one of the other teams? It had to be her? The grieving mother and aunt with fucking _cancer_!?"

Tony nodded at Fornell's outburst. "Yeah." He went on to explain that he had told Gibbs most of everything so that Gibbs could keep the team away from the case, and Fornell nodded, having expected that would happen.

"Did you make it to the meeting?" he asked quietly. Tony nodded, grateful for the support.

"Yeah, most of it, which is enough."

"You must've had some of the coffee. You look wired," Fornell said with a chuckle. Tony often snuck down during hard cases to hit the 7:30 meeting, and always came back wired. The person who made the coffee there made it as strong as Gibbs, and Tony was usually pretty jittery after a cup or two.

"Only half a cup this time. I'm actually trying to figure out something, and it has my brain scattered."

"Well, I don't know what you need to do to _un_-scatter it, but do it. This case is too important to be tied up in the associated drama." Fornell was too tired to deal with the relationship issues at hand.

"Yeah, I think I need to go do that," Tony said. He got up, told Fornell goodnight and made his way out the door. He didn't realize what he was doing until he was in the car and driving towards Alexandria.

He was suddenly furious.

_Who in the hell does he think he is, apologizing after two years?!_ He thought as he pounded his hands on the steering wheel. _He has no fucking right to make me feel anything!_

A tiny voice inside of him wouldn't let him avoid the truth. _But I do._

Tony held on to his rage. It had been what had made him stronger time and time again, and he used it to push away the pain, the hope, the longing, and even the love. He wanted to stay angry. _Angry_ got him sober, _angry_ got him to where he was, _angry_ was his strength.

He pulled into Gibbs' driveway, surprised to find that the truck and car were both there after Gibbs' vehement argument that he was going to find a way around the current plan. He must have listened to Tony though, and let his team finally go home and rest after being called out in the middle of the night. It was yet one more thing that tried to pull him from his safe, angry place and scratch at the door of his heart like a wet puppy.

He set his resolve, forcing himself to remember that day in Vance's office, forcing himself to remember all the nights he passed out from drinking so much in an attempt to forget him, forcing himself to remember how cold his ex was when he went off on Abby. He went up to the door and pushed it open without knocking, slamming it shut. He stood in Gibbs' living room, blood red with anger and frustration as he looked at Gibbs sitting on the couch, leaning over the coffee table with the case file spread out around him, glasses on the end of his nose. Their eyes met and Tony went off, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing trying to apologize _now_ after two years- _**two years**_- of leaving me alone in misery? Two years of me drowning in-in-in-in pain, hatred, anger, and doubt? Two years of me having to _completely_ resituate my life, change _everything_ about how I live, and _everything_ I know! Two years of being alone, miserable, growing colder and number by the day in order to just move forward, step by step! _**Two years**_, Jethro! Two _goddamned_ years! And now, all of the sudden, because we're forced to work together, you suddenly find it in you to apologize? You suddenly find it in you to care about me? You know what? Fuck you! Fuck you, and fuck your apology! If it means so much now, it should have meant just as much then, and you should have found the _fucking _balls to have made it two _fucking_ years ago when it could have done me some _fucking_ good!" Tony screamed.

At first, Gibbs sat there in shock that Tony was in his house. He wasn't shocked by what Tony had to say- he'd completely expected that. He was worried though, because Tony never got upset like this. For as long as he had known him, he had never seen Tony this angry. He'd seen him cold, quiet, calculated, but he'd never seen Tony go off like this. He laid his glasses on the table, got to his feet, and slowly approached the screaming man, ready to take the punch he expected. He knew he was walking on ice, but he had a sudden urge to try to touch Tony, as if touching him could calm him enough to bring him down to a level that wasn't so terrifying.

He shook his head slightly, and the pained look on his face took Tony off guard. "I'm so sorry, Tony. I'm a prick, and I'm an idiot, and I haven't gone a single day where I didn't think about you constantly, missing you, wishing you were here, and there with us at work, but mainly, here. I should never have let you go. If I could change things now, I would. If I was given the option now, I'd choose you over the job in a heartbeat. If I would have known how I wouldn't have been able to let you go, how I'd think about you non-stop and stay awake for days on end because I can't sleep at night without you there next to me…"

He was only a couple of feet away from Tony when he reached out with his hands to try to hold Tony's arms down while he tried to explain himself, but that didn't happen.

Tony saw Gibbs' hands coming up towards him, and he grabbed the older man's wrists. He didn't want a warm, loving embrace that was meant to make him feel better. He knew that he'd melt, and he didn't want to melt. He wanted to stay angry. The problem was, anger wasn't the only thing he was feeling. As soon as he made contact with Gibbs' skin, he felt the same magical spark that he always had when they touched since that first night on the blanket under the fireworks. He found himself suddenly breathing heavy and he froze, watching as Gibbs froze too, his chest suddenly heaving as he watched the blue eyes dilate.

A moment later, he was crushing his lips against Gibbs', and Gibbs accepted the kiss, returning it fully. Both men were suddenly on fire, their entire bodies flushing with heat and color from head to toe, their breath becoming short and frantic. The kissing didn't stop, but Tony somehow managed to lead them towards the steps. Halfway up, he turned, pressing Gibbs hard against the wall as he kissed him even harder. Gibbs moaned into the kiss, loving the way that Tony was taking his anger and frustration out on him, feeling every bit of it as a penance he had craved for far too long now.

They finally made their way up the rest of the steps, and into Gibbs' bedroom. Tony pulled and yanked on Gibbs' clothes as they came away from his body, and then yanked on his own tie, pulling it lose. He jerked his shirt buttons open while his teeth gnawed on Gibbs' lips. Every time Gibbs reached out to touch Tony, Tony grabbed his wrists and tossed his hands away from his body. A part of Tony's mind was confused, telling him that this wasn't what he needed, but every ounce of Tony's flesh ached for Gibbs, and Tony's heart was screaming at him to keep going, to take out his pain, his sadness, his pent up desire and his long denied love on the man in front of him.

Now naked, he pushed Gibbs back onto the bed and straddled his body, leaning down to kiss him again, one hand fumbling in the nightstand drawer for the lube he knew would be there.

Gibbs' heart was pounding, his mind a hazy fog of disbelief. Ten minutes earlier, Tony was screaming at him in the middle of the living room, and now he was on top of him, naked in his bed. He was terrified that Tony would regret this and hate him even worse in the morning, but for now, he couldn't bring himself to stop him. He needed the release as much as Tony did. He wanted Tony to use him, to use his body in whatever way he needed to in order to heal some of the pain he felt.

Tony had two lubed fingers tracing Gibbs' anus as he bit down hard on his shoulder, making sure to leave teeth marks and deep brown hickeys wherever he could. Suddenly he plunged his fingers into Jethro and he heard the older man groan. Tony didn't care whether it was in pain or pleasure, he could only think about how tight Gibbs was, and it reminded him of their first time together. Tony slid his fingers in and out of Gibbs, and then scissored them back and forth. He didn't work on him too long, unable to control himself, unable to wait.

Gibbs was finally allowed to wrap his hands around Tony's back, nails digging in as Tony plunged into him unceremoniously, causing a sharp pain that took his breath away, while at the same time feeling cathartic. Tony plunged deep, then withdrew and then re-entered him, causing another gasp. An extremely fast and hard pace started that kept both men gasping for breath. Tony's face was buried against Gibbs' neck as his hips thrust again and again against Gibbs, and Gibbs' nails dug deeper and deeper trenches into Tony's back as he moaned and gasped and panted.

Tony felt the tingle flooding down his spine like a waterfall of lightning, and he cried out into Jethro's ear. "Don't want to let go, yet. Not while I finally have you again," he whimpered.

"I'm not letting you go this time, Tony. Not letting you go…" Gibbs murmured.

With that, Tony cried out as he came, filling Jethro. The release pushed Jethro over the edge and he tumbled after Tony, his fingers drawing blood from Tony's back as his nails dug in. Tony was shaking as he collapsed against Gibbs, his forehead against his lovers'. His hands reached up to grab Gibbs' face, and Tony kissed his lips with shaky breath as he trembled from head to toe.

"I missed you so much, Jethro. Missed being inside of you, being next to you, holding you, being held by you, kissing you…" Tears fell from Tony's face onto Jethro's as Jethro reached up and ran his hand through Tony's sweat-damp hair.

"I missed you, too, Tony. Missed this, missed your laughter, how you managed to make me smile again, to feel alive again. I love you, Tony, and I have never, for a single moment, stopped loving you."

Tony broke down sobbing against Jethro's chest and Jethro cried with him, kissing the top of Tony's head from time to time as he felt the guilt consume him for the pain he had caused the man he loved more than anything in the entire world.

"I'm never going to let you go, Tony. Never. I'd give up everything if that's what you wanted me to do to prove that you mean more to me than anything and anyone. Just tell me, tell me what you need from me, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"Just you, Jethro. Just you, loving me, putting me first. That's all I need."

The two men fell asleep like that, Tony still inside of Jethro as he lay on top of him, nestled against him with Jethro's fingers wrapped in his hair and Tony's cheek pressed against his.

-NCIS-

Tony woke up aching, and he wondered if he'd fallen asleep in his car after an all-night bender again. When he felt the warmth of the man underneath him, he panicked, thinking that his bender had landed him with someone he didn't want to be with. He'd made it through two years without sleeping with anyone else, despite how drunk he got, and as he thought about that, everything from the night before flooded back to him.

At first, he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He asked himself his mantra questions: Is this healthy for me? Is this the best decision? As his eyes cracked open and he looked at Jethro, he had no doubts that he was right where he needed to be. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain it to everybody, but he was waking up with the man he loved for the first time in almost two years, and the great empty hole in his life was once again filled.

He watched Jethro sleep, not caring about what time it was, or when they were going to have to wake up. He wondered if they could really pick up where they left off, and then he realized that no, they couldn't. They'd have to pick up from where they were, right at that moment, and would have to work through everything that had changed about one another, making sure that they were still as compatible as they once were.

Tony knew that he had probably changed the most between them. He was harder, colder, and much more jaded than he used to be. Jethro had said the night before that he missed the way Tony could make him laugh, and Tony wondered if he still had enough of that person in him to really do that. He had to be honest with himself and say that at the moment, he doubted it. If he could be truly happy again though, he just might be able to. There was hope for that. He had Jethro in his arms again, and with the help of his old NCIS team, he might actually make some leeway on getting through to the Giovannis. Those two things would change everything for him.

He thought about how passionately Jethro had reacted to the idea of him being so close to the more dangerous aspects of the case, but he meant what he told Jethro. He'd worked his ass off on this case for almost a year now, and he was dedicated to it. They'd been sniffing leads that always seemed to send up the wrong tree for some time now, and he was finally feeling like he was on to something. He didn't like the idea of Jethro getting so close to it all, and as he considered it, he held the man tighter in his arms, afraid he'd slip away if he let go.

Jethro stirred as the embrace around him shifted. He felt the warm body against him, and thought he was dreaming. He had had this dream multiple times now, and each time, it always ended the same: he'd wake up, Tony wouldn't be there, and he'd hear the sound of Vance's door slamming shut echoing loudly in his ears over and over again all day long. He whimpered, waiting for that horrible moment to happen when he felt Tony disappear. He suddenly started begging in a pitiful whine in his half-sleep, and it made Tony flinch. "Don't go, Tony! Please? Stay?"

Tony shook Jethro hard to wake him up. "Jethro! Jethro! I'm right here. I'm here. I'm staying right here."

Jethro woke up with a sudden gasp, his arms tightening around Tony.

"Tony? You're really here?" he asked as he panted for breath, his eyes glazed over in a desperate sadness that Tony had never seen in them.

"Yeah, Jethro, I'm really here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." Tony rolled over, suddenly very aware of the itchy mess in his pubic and leg hair, and he pulled Jethro on top of him as he settled down.

"You're really here," Jethro kept whispering over and over to himself, his head buried in Tony's chest, arms tight around Tony's body.

"Yeah, I'm right here." Tony's heart broke as he realized that Jethro had experienced this before when he wasn't really there to calm him. He knew what that was like all too well. Soothing words escaped him as he felt the tears falling against his chest, his hand ran through Jethro's short hair as his own tears streamed down his face. "What the hell were you thinking, Jethro? Why didn't you just call me? Why didn't you just come over? You knew where the hell I was. Why didn't you just come fix this?"

"When I went off on Abby, you looked at me like you never wanted to see me again, and then when you left for the FBI two weeks later, I figured it was beyond fixing. I always thought you'd at least come back to the team, and thought that even if you were pissed at me for the rest of our lives, at least I'd still be around you, see you, hear you…" Jethro shook his head, clinging tightly to Tony again as the tears ran over once more. "You never came back. You left. You left us there, left me there…" Tony clung to Jethro tightly. "I thought you'd come back, but you didn't come back."

"I couldn't come back! I couldn't see you, hear you, be around you! Every time I looked at you, it hurt so bad I couldn't breathe! You didn't want me! You-" Tony's voice broke, and the tears he cried were for himself now. "You didn't want me."

Jethro sat up to look into Tony's eyes, taking his hands in his. "I always _wanted_ you, Tony. I just didn't realize I _needed_ you as much as I do. I have screwed up good things so many times, and I always had work to fall back on. The idea of one day losing you, either because I fucked it up, or because of a work incident, and not having a place to bury my… my loss, my anger, my depression… that terrified me. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I chose wrong. Being without you has been much worse than I ever thought it would be, and if I could go back to that day, and tell Vance to fuck off, I would in a heartbeat, but I can't.

"I've sat on that damn couch and at that godforsaken work bench for hours, staring at the phone, trying to drink enough to make me pick it up, night after night for two years. So many times, I had it in my hand and couldn't do it. I… I didn't want to find out that you had moved on. I didn't want to know that you'd finally found someone who would truly appreciate you. I didn't think I could take it if I lost the last little shred of hope that you might come back to the team one day, and I might be able to at least have you in my life as a friend again. It's all I've had- it's what I've clung to."

Tony watched the sincerity in Jethro's eyes as he said more in those few minutes than he'd said in years.

"Please, Tony- give me the chance to fix this."

Tony sat up, putting his back against the headboard. He stared into the bloodshot and tear-glazed blue eyes in front of him in the dim dawn light that was filtering into the room, and he thought about everything that Meghan had told him and asked him.

"_Why did you love him to begin with?"_ She'd asked him one day, months before.

"_Why? Hmm. Now, that, is a loaded question. Jethro had this way about him, this solid, stable, focus, that made the rest of the world disappear, and if I focused on him, my world stood still, and stopped sloshing around so much. As the years went on, it stopped sloshing at all. He's the icon of integrity, even if a little gruff, and he's as full of compassion and loyalty as he is coffee, and the man _never_ stops drinking coffee. There's always some in the pot, day round, waiting for him. And there's always coffee because, not only does he actually enjoy it, he's pretty much on-call constantly. He is there for anybody who needs him, whenever they need him, and he lives out of that place. He actually cares, and loves, passionately, despite the sharp edges he seems like to the outsider. And once we got together, he was actually really sweet, protective, loving, thoughtful, and we could laugh for hours, just talking closely with one another."_

As Tony had explained to Meghan why he fell in love with Jethro to begin with, he began crying, realizing what he'd never have again.

Sitting up in bed though, he was staring back at the man in front of him that had given him all of that, and then taken it away. He felt the hurt, the anger, the resentment and the sadness flood him, but he also felt all of the love he'd always had for Jethro.

"You've got one chance, Jethro. Once chance to make this right."

Jethro nodded fervently next to him. "I'll make it count, I promise."

"I know," Tony said quietly, nodding, believing it full-heartedly. He knew that Jethro would never let him go again, and Tony considered if that was what was healthy, what was right. "You need to know that I've changed a lot in the past two years, Jethro. I'm not as… happy and carefree as I once was, I guess. I'm tired, I'm angry a lot, and I'm worn out. I can't promise that I'll ever go back to who I was, or that I even want to."

Jethro smiled sadly at him. "I get it. I've changed, too. I'm not nearly as grounded as I used to be, not nearly as open. The team is at the point where they can't stand being around me… Ducky flat out yelled at me this morning. But maybe, over time, if I take a couple steps this way, and you take a couple steps that way, we can be something new."

Tony nodded, and smiled sadly back. "I can work on that."

Jethro collapsed against Tony's chest with a happy sigh. "Me, too, Tony. Me, too."

They laid there for a while, taking in the fact that they were naked in bed together.

"Do we tell the team?" Jethro asked quietly.

"Well, they're going to know one way or another, so we might as well."

"Yeah, guess they will."

"No, they definitely will. I bit the hell out of your neck last night," Tony said with a chuckle, running his finger over one of the maroon sets of teeth marks on Jethro's neck. Jethro laughed, and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Aw, hell," he said.

"I'm just afraid that they'll expect things to go back to being perfect and normal right away, and that's not going to happen," Tony said as he rested his head on top of Jethro's.

They sat in silence for a long few minutes, and Jethro finally cleared his throat. "You said that you don't want them this close to the case, so let's take them out of the equation."

Tony looked down at the man lying against him. "How do you expect to do that?" he asked.

"We take this off grid," Jethro said quietly.

"What off grid?"

"The case. We'll track the bastard down, and take him out ourselves."

"As in, really off grid. How do you expect to explain this to Fornell and Vance? They'll think we're running off together or something."

"We don't."

Tony raised an eyebrow at Jethro as the older man leaned back against the headboard.

"Jethro, I can't run out from under Fornell like that. Can you imagine if I would have done that to you? You would have killed me, and justifiably."

Gibbs looked at Tony and realized that as far as work went, there had definitely been a loyalty switch. He'd always felt that Tony's loyalty to him at work was something special, and he realized that Fornell had stepped in and taken that spot. It hurt, and he was starting to really see how the changes from the past two years were going to affect them.

"If we told him the plan, do you think he'd have a problem with it?" Gibbs asked quietly, trying to give the idea a fair run.

Tony thought about it for a minute. "We'd have to have a real plan to pitch to him. What were you thinking?"

Gibbs tried not to smile as there was suddenly hope.

"Last night when I got back into the office, McGee had tracked down the phone number of a prepaid phone that had made multiple calls to both Roberta Natoli, and Justin Natoli's girlfriend six months ago. He was able to do his thing and figure out where the phone was bought, found the barcode or something for each phone, and was able to composite a list of where they were activated. There were ten of them that were all activated from the same computer, and-"

"And McGee was able to pinpoint where that computer was at the time! I love that geek! So, where was it?"

"That's where we got lucky. He was activating them from Woodrow Wilson."

"The high school?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. It was in the middle of the night, and the guy was parked outside on the stairs using their wifi. McGee hacked into the security video feed. The school keeps a year on file at a time, and then backs it up."

"Aren't they the ones that got broken into, and the thieves stole something like twenty grand in tech equipment they had just gotten with that grant?" Tony asked, thinking back to something he'd read in the paper a few years before.

"Yeah, which is why they have the security. The guy was in just the right light to get a good photo, and we got a name and address on him."

"I bet McGee and Ziva were ready to go after the guy. Why didn't you?" Tony asked as he tried to puzzle together what Gibbs was explaining.

"Because of what you told me yesterday. They don't have clearance for where this could lead, and I care too much about them to let them get tangled up in it. I'm not sure how much they trust me right now, and they don't have enough information to safely take this on."

Tony watched Gibbs' eyes as he explained, and he saw the hurt in them as he said he didn't know if McGee and Ziva trusted him. He knew that things were rough on the team, but he didn't know that they had gotten quite that bad. He took Gibbs' hand, and he laced his fingers with it.

"I can tell you that they never stopped trusting you, Jethro."

Gibbs took a sharp breath in and looked down at their joined hands, shaking his head. "So much has changed," he said as he squeezed Tony's fingers. "So much. Can't tell you everything, just too much to tell. Things aren't the same."

"Something new, right?" Tony asked with a soft smile, causing Gibbs to look up at him, a small smile forming when he met Tony's eyes.

"Something new."

"Let's get cleaned up and talk this through. I know you've got some kind of plan working itself out in there. I want to hear it. If there's a chance that we won't have to involve them, then I'm all for it." Tony slid out of bed, and when Jethro stayed, he smiled sheepishly and reached out his hand again, inviting him to join him. Jethro took it with a smile, and got out of bed as Tony pulled him immediately towards the shower.

As soon as the water was on, Tony pulled Jethro in under it with him, ignoring the initial cold shock. Jethro's body was suddenly against his and their mouths were locked. Tony sighed heavily and smiled into the kiss. This was right. It was the part of the past that he needed brought into the present. This hadn't changed. The battle between control for the kiss, Jethro giving up fairly easily and turning it over, something that Tony had at one point found incredibly surprising, was now ingrained into him, and even two years later felt as natural as breathing.

Jethro got lost in the kiss immediately. He found himself falling into the way Tony's lips and tongue demanded control, and he let him have it, relishing in the way they held each other, water rushing over their bodies. He loved the feel of Tony's muscles under his hands as they explored his back and arms. He trusted Tony, and to be able to let go with him was always the biggest gift of their relationship. They were completely different together sexually than he'd ever been with anybody, and that was something he knew he'd never find again and had mourned deeply. With Tony, it was never just sex, even at its hottest and most feral. The level of trust that Jethro turned over to him could only be done with someone he loved on such a deep and intense level, that it turned every action into making love. This time was no different.

Tony's mouth moved to Jethro's neck, gently kissing the marks he'd left, looking at the damage to make sure it wasn't too severe. The tender way he licked as he kissed them made Gibbs' eyes close. After a few minutes, Gibbs reached for the soap and began soaping up Tony's body. He heard the slight hiss when the soap started cleaning the scratch marks on Tony's back, and Gibbs silently turned him around to check the damage.

His fingers ran over the marks, and he leaned forward to kiss them much like Tony had just done. He soaped his hands again, dropped the bar back onto its ledge, then ran his hands over Tony's back, cleaning it. Tony grit his teeth the slightest, and thought about how appropriate it was that Jethro was cleaning the wounds he made, and about how though it hurt, it needed to happen.

He turned around in Jethro's arms to face him again, looking into his blue eyes as he picked up the bar of soap. He got his hands nice and slick, then reached down and grabbed both his and Jethro's cocks in his hands, causing Jethro to moan.

Tony smiled at the way Jethro grabbed both for him and the wall, hoping something would keep him steady. Tony felt the strong hand gripping his shoulder, and began stroking them both with long, hard strokes. He leaned in and whispered into Jethro's ear as he brought them closer and closer to climax.

"I haven't let any one touch me since you. Couldn't. Didn't want them. Just wanted this, wanted you. Your cock, your body, your surrender- it's all I wanted, all I'll ever want." His own breath was coming in pants as he spoke, the words coming out more breath than voice, and Jethro moaned as he thrust into Tony's grasp.

"No one, Tony. No one since you either. Just me, thinking about you every time. Your hands, your body, your mouth, your touch…"

Tony's strokes became sporadic, coming in short jerks until Jethro's breath hitched hard. A low keening noise came from him as he froze, and then he twitched hard as he came, Tony stroking him through it. Tony fought his own orgasm, watching Jethro's face contort in pleasure. It was painfully beautiful, and Tony felt the warm release oozing through his fingers as he milked his lover dry. He was surprised that Jethro had stayed celibate as well. He stroked himself slowly as he contemplated what he wanted.

He watched as Jethro leaned back against the wall to catch his breath, and waited until he was slightly more coherent. Reaching out and taking Jethro's hand, he placed it on his own cock, and folded the fingers around it. Jethro immediately began stroking him. Tony thought back to that first night together.

_Once they had finally made their way back to Jethro's house from the fireworks, Jethro led Tony up to his bedroom. He had closed the door behind them, and looked almost shy as Tony stripped off his shirt. Tony looked at Jethro in pleasant disbelief as the pieces fell into place, and he realized that Jethro had never been with a man. He pulled him into his arms and chuckled quietly, his hands going to Jethro's waist and slowly working the t-shirt and polo from where they were tucked. _

_Jethro groaned in embarrassment, and threw his head back. _

"_Really?" Tony asked with a smile on his face, feeling flattered. _

"_It's not funny!" Jethro said with a smile, his face turning red. _

"_Never?" Tony asked quietly, the smile on his lips conveying more of a personal interest than amusement. _

"_Other than a few mutual hand jobs when things got really lonely on tour, nothing." _

"_Then we'll start with that. Take things step by step," Tony said nonchalantly with more understanding than Jethro expected, putting the older man at ease. There was no judgment in Tony's voice, and the way Tony's eyes conveyed his honest emotions, showing Jethro that he was happy with whatever they were doing, made Jethro want to turn himself over completely. He sighed deeply, and Tony watched as Jethro's mouth opened, willing words to come out. _

"_I want everything. I want you to show me everything."_

_Tony groaned and took Jethro's mouth in a kiss that set both of them on fire. Jethro felt the tone change, and felt Tony's sure hands and confident touch. He fell into their security, and he loved the way every movement set his body on fire. They were both soon naked, and lying on the bed, kissing deeply as Tony stroked Jethro until he was rock hard. He then took Jethro's hand and wrapped it around his own cock, encouraging him. _

_Jethro stroked Tony expertly, and Tony's eyes rolled into the back of his head as every inch of his body tingled. _

"_God, that feels good," Tony said quietly as Jethro worked his hand over his shaft again and again, adding just a bit of a twist that made Tony groan. Tony leaned forward and took Jethro's lips again. Their tongues swapped equally agonizing kisses, until Tony pulled back and asked quietly, "Do you have any lube?"_

_Jethro nodded, mesmerized by the idea that they needed it. "In the nightstand."_

"_Hmmm…" Tony said, tracing Jethro's shoulder with his fingertips as Jethro continued stroking him, though somewhat slower. "Close at hand. I'd love to watch you jack off sometime." Tony had always felt pretty confident in the bedroom, but the feeling he had running through him at that moment was beyond compare. He had the man that put his whole world in balance at his mercy, trusting him to guide him through this, allowing him to take control, and it was intense. The trust made his heart burst at the seams, and his mind kept thinking of all of the ways that Jethro had more power than him in any given role in his life, yet here he was, underneath him, not only allowing, but wanting him to be in control. He hadn't expected it, but it was a heady experience that had his blood racing through him, making his heart pound while making him feel grounded. _

_Searching through the small collection of items in the nightstand drawer, Tony found the half-empty bottle of lube. He smirked as he thought of Jethro's hands touching it as he stroked himself, and he bent to kiss his lover again, taking both of their breaths away. He was impressed that Jethro still hadn't stopped stroking him, but pulled back finally out of his grasp only to hear Jethro whine. That made Tony smirk, and he lubed up two fingers. _

_He first traced Jethro's puckering anus, and feeling him shudder at the touch, reached forward and began slow, drawn out strokes over Jethro's leaking cock. _

"_You feel so good, Jethro. So fucking good. If you're not liking anything, tell me right away, and I'll stop. Want you to enjoy anything we do, everything we do." His green eyes locked on blue, and he got a simple nod of acknowledgement. _

_Once he was sure Jethro's hole was lubed enough, he began pushing the tip of his finger in and out of it, testing the resistance. Jethro's eyes closed, his mouth hanging open just the slightest. Tony slid his finger even further in, up to the first knuckle. He wiggled it just a little, feeling Jethro contract around it, then expand, then contract again. He slid it out just a little, then pushed forward again, going in deeper. He heard a "hmmm" noise come from Jethro and smiled. He pulled his finger almost out, then back in, over and over again, and Jethro's eyes opened to watch Tony's expressions with a new kind of glaze over them. Tony pushed his finger all the way in and searched for Jethro's prostate, finding it and making Jethro yelp. _

"_Holy shit!"_

"_Completely different sensation when you're this aroused," Tony said with a raw, rough voice as he watched the flush spread from Jethro's neck and shoulders down his torso. Jethro nodded vehemently, and then Tony slid his second finger into him, making him groan. He worked both fingers back and forth, grazing Jethro's prostate now and then, enjoying the way his hips bucked off the bed and fucked against his fingers each time. He was soon spreading his fingers apart the slightest bit, stretching his lover thoroughly. Jethro's own fingers ran down Tony's arms in response, scratching whatever he could reach._

"_You're so tight, going to feel so good," he mumbled as he worked him open more and more to take him comfortably. He spent a lot of time making sure Jethro was prepped so that he would enjoy it, hoping that it would be good enough to be the first of many times. Though he really enjoyed bottoming, he enjoyed topping as well, and the fact that Jethro, of all people wanted it so badly had him on fire._

"_More?" Jethro finally asked, breathing heavily. _

_Tony smirked and added a third finger, heading straight for Jethro's prostate with the cluster. Running over it again and again made the most delicious sound come from the man below him and Tony groaned as Jethro's hips bucked off the bed again and again, trying to make the fingers hit it. Tony withdrew, and Jethro made a distressful noise that Tony was quick to lean forward and kiss away. _

_Grabbing a tissue from next to the bed, he wiped his fingers off, then used a fresh glob of lube to slick his cock. His dry hand reached forward and took Jethro's in his, and with his eyes locked on his lover's, he used his other hand to guide his dick into the tight chamber waiting for him. _

_He had watched as Jethro's eyes widened as he stretched to take Tony's girth, a bit surprised. Once Tony's head breached the ring of muscle, he stopped as they both tried to breathe. Tony had expected Jethro to be tight, even with all the prep, but the way his ass swallowed the head of his cock and held him like a vice-grip had him breathless. _

_After a long minute of standing still, he slowly began to move slightly forward, running his hand down Jethro's thigh, the other still tightly in Jethro's grasp. He watched Jethro's eyes, gauging his reaction to every movement, and seeing only amazement and perfect trust. He felt his heart race double as he recognized the power being handed over to him and what it meant. Once he was finally completely seated, he leaned forward and kissed Jethro softly. _

"_You okay?" he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss. Glazed blue eyes looked back at him and nodded, and Tony smiled. He pulled back slowly and then pushed forward again, watching Jethro's eyes roll into the back of his head. That was enough of a sign for him that Jethro was enjoying himself, and he set up a rhythm as he slid forward and back, angling himself slightly to try and hit Jethro's prostate as much as possible. _

"_Stroke yourself for me," Tony commanded, sweat running down his neck. Jethro's free hand immediately went to his own cock, gliding over it in short motions. Small noises started coming from Jethro in a steady and encouraging rate, and Tony smiled, throwing his head back. _

"_More, Tony. I need more," Jethro growled, and Tony started fucking him in earnest, letting loose all of the pent up desire and passion in him as he began taking Jethro harder and faster. "Oh, God, yes!" Jethro shouted over the creaking bed and Tony's sounds of effort. Tony pulled his hand away from Jethro and grabbed his legs, bringing them up towards his shoulders as he rammed into him again and again, shifting to hit Jethro's prostate with every thrust. A high keening sound filled the air, and Tony knew that they were both about to come. _

_Moments later, he yelled at the top of his lungs, his release spilling into Jethro, and for a brief moment in time, he realized that neither of them had thought of a condom. After a split second of doubt, he felt Jethro's own release shooting onto his arm and hand still grasping Jethro's leg, and he heard Jethro's voice fill the room in a roar. Breathing a sigh of relief and post-orgasm bliss, he pulled out of Jethro and collapsed on the bed next to him, his arm going around the older man, smearing the mess between them. _

_They took some time to catch their breath, and Tony pulled Jethro close to him in a strangely protective hold. He ran his fingers through Jethro's hair. and looked into his hazy eyes. "You okay?" he asked. _

"_Uh huh," Jethro managed as he nodded. Tony chuckled intimately. _

"_You might think differently in the morning," he said shyly as he looked down at Jethro's chest. _

"_Then you might have to do that again in the morning," Jethro said with a half-shrug as he turned into Tony, laying his head on the younger man's arm. "Had no idea it was like that."_

_Tony chuckled that soft chuckle again that made Jethro feel warm inside. _

"_Would have done it a lot sooner," he said, finding the strength to throw and arm over Tony. _

_Tony felt a sudden surge of jealousy. "Nope. Had to wait for me." He wrapped Jethro in a tighter embrace, and Jethro chuckled, hearing the tension in Tony's voice. _

"_I meant with _you_, Tony."_

"_Oh. Okay then. Doesn't matter though, you're mine now, and I'm never giving you up."_

"_I like the sound of that," Jethro said before drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Tony reached behind him for the box of tissues and tried to clean up some of the mess on them, tossing the tissues towards the small trashcan next to the bed. He wasn't sure if he'd made it, but he really didn't care as he held Jethro tightly. _

"_I love you, Jethro," he whispered against the sleeping man's silver hair. _

Tony's mind replayed the scene in his mind as Jethro's hand stroked him over and over again in the shower. He suddenly convulsed, coming hard as he looked into those blue eyes, fierce with passion. He fell forward, pressing Jethro against the wall, pinning his body against the tile as he kissed him deeply.

"Our first night together, I promised I'd never let you go. I've held on for two years, Jethro, and I'll hang on for fifty more if we're given it."

Jethro's hand reached up to cup Tony's face. "I love you, Tony. I'll do whatever it takes, but I'll never give you up again."

"Really?" Tony asked.

"Really."

"Then do something for me."

"Anything," Jethro said, looking into Tony's eyes merely inches from his.

"Marry me."


	7. Chapter 7

_I've got so much love for y'all! Your response to the last chapter was so great :) Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one as well!_

Chapter Seven

Tony had a million alarms going off in his head as the words slipped out. His mantra was flashing in big neon lights behind his eyes with a big red stop sign. _No! This isn't healthy! _he argued with himself, and then like the shoulder angel and shoulder devil, another part of him would counter with, _But it _is_ what you need…_

He could tell by the shocked look in Jethro's eyes that the older man was stunned and scared. He decided he needed to explain himself.

"We're thinking about running off into a dangerous situation together that might cost us our lives. If you're willing to do that, to put your life on the line for me, then I want something to look forward to waiting on the other side. I want to know that we're going to give this a fair fight, a real try, and I believe that if you're willing to die at my side, you need to be willing to live by my side. I'm not saying this week or even this month, but tell me that you want this enough to make that promise in front of everyone that you do love me, and you are willing to do whatever it takes to make this relationship work. Marriage isn't the end of solving our problems, it's promising that come hell or high water, we'll get through all of the problems laid out before us, and I want that promise."

Jethro considered what Tony was saying. His past marriages didn't work out because he and his ex-wives had gone into the marriage with different expectations. They thought that it would mean settling down and finding some happy routine, but Jethro's life wasn't going to change for that. He was still going to work the long hours, go on dangerous cases, and be lucky to come home for six hours of sleep before going in and doing it all over. He knew that Tony understood that, but he knew that they still had a lot of work ahead of them in order to piece their relationship and their lives back together. The idea that Tony wanted to do that together, wanted to take those strides enough that he was _proposing_ to him, had thrown him off guard. He was shocked by the depth of trust Tony had that they could do it, that they were going to work things through and find a peace in the chaos. He was also worried though.

"We don't see each other for two years, and then we run into each other, and, what, twenty eight hours later, we're thinking about marriage?" Jethro asked in confusion.

"Yes," Tony said immediately with confidence. "Because after two years, a few hundred major life changes, almost nine months of sobriety, a huge career change, the deepest depression and the reddest rage, not to mention adding my shrink to the speed dial on my cell phone, I'm still just as much in love with you as I was two years ago, and something like that deserves taking special precautions to hold on to."

Jethro stared back into the honest expression on Tony's face, ignoring the way the now icy water ran down their bodies, and knew that Tony was right. There was still so much there that they were both holding on to, and he knew that he would never let go of. If Tony was willing to fight through it all with him, to promise- no, _vow_- to stay by his side while they fought for what they both had gone to sleep craving every night for the past two years, then he was going to take him up on the offer.

"As soon as we catch this bastard and take him out, I'm dragging you down to the courthouse," Jethro said quietly as he reached out and pulled Tony against him, their faces only a few inches from one another.

"Really?" Tony asked, a shy and elated smile creeping over his face.

"Really."

"We'll make it stick, Jethro. We'll make it mean something worth holding on to."

"It already is something worth holding on to- always was. Like I said, I'm just a damn idiot."

"Yeah, but you're _my_ idiot," Tony said with a chuckle that Jethro joined in on.

"Let's get outta here. It's freezing, and I have a plan that if we put into action right away could have us at the courthouse by next week."

"Liking the sound of that!" Tony said as he turned off the water, a sudden springy feeling inside that he hadn't felt for a long time.

Sitting on the couch around the coffee table, coffee cups in hand, Jethro went over the information that Tim had obtained, and explained that if they tracked down their wi-fi thief, they could bank on the Patriot Act and presidential pardon, and get the information they needed out of him. From there, they might be able to use the guy's computer to send the messages they would need in order to lure Frankie out of hiding, or at least move up the food chain to someone else that could. They considered the many roadblocks to the plan, but in the end, it was the best they had, and they felt they could make it work.

Tony was still looking for something they could give Tobias as a clincher. They had the hook and the line, they just needed that one definite sinker to give it enough weight to go straight to the bottom and put them in position to do what they needed to do.

"What if he doesn't talk?" Tony asked.

"He's probably not going to walk away one way or another. We get him into the river, and it looks like the mob did it. We use it as an excuse to bring in someone we _can_ locate under the blanket warrant, and repeat the process."

Tony looked at Gibbs with a raised eyebrow. The term _ruthless_ came to mind, and he was surprised to find himself completely on-board. _I guess we've both hardened over the past couple of years._

"So we're going to use the mob's own game on them: kidnap, torture, and dispose. Meanwhile, to the outsider, it looks like the mob is to blame, and keeps our agencies out of the limelight. We're going to have to go completely dark during this. No calling in Tim or Abby for special favors, no updating Fornell with information. No back-up, no connections, just us." Tony's voice was solemn but challenging as he confirmed with Jethro where this was leading.

"Exactly- just us." Their eyes locked for a long moment, and they realized how much trust this was going to take.

"On the up side," Tony said. "If we can make it through this without killing each other or getting one another killed, I'm pretty sure we can take on all the other crap life throws at us."

Jethro smiled broadly and looked down at the folders. "Yeah, though, I think it's more that we can do this because we've _already_ taken on so much together, and we're hellbent on taking on a lot more."

"Oh, yeah, because let me tell you something mister- you are so not finished groveling yet! I'm expecting breakfast in bed on the weekends we're not on call, and I'm going to love all those back massages you're going to give me, and let's not forget-"

The sudden head-slap made them both laugh, and Tony felt like something was breaking free inside of him that had been chained for two years now.

"I'm going to call Fornell and tell him we need to meet him alone this morning. You need to call Vance. I'm going to head over to my place to get the stuff I'll need, and put next month's rent in the super's mailbox for the landlord in case this takes longer than expected." Tony went to get to his feet, and he was suddenly pulled back to the couch so that he fell over onto Jethro. They were immediately locked into a kiss that conveyed so much emotion that Tony wasn't sure he'd ever breathe again.

"You _are_ going to want to live together once we get married, right?" Jethro asked.

"Yeah, that's definitely part of the plan," Tony said as he looked down into the eyes of the man below him.

"Good. Then hopefully that's the last check you'll ever cut to your landlord."

Tony kissed Jethro again slowly. It didn't last long enough for either of them before Tony sat up and got to his feet.

"I'll see you in an hour at the Hoover building." He picked up his keys and his jacket and headed for the door, leaving Jethro to scoop up the paperwork in front of him and sort it back together.

Gibbs took a deep breath, acknowledging the task ahead of them. He headed to the basement and he slid out the third drawer of his work bench. There was a small tackle box in it, and he opened it up, taking stock of what was there. A series of hunting knives and fish skinning knives were in it, as well as two icepicks, a heavy spool of line and another of wire. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like an ice-fisher's tackle box. There were even a series of fishhooks in various sizes and some rubber glittering worms wrapped up in little compartments on top. However, if someone looked close enough, they would see that the bottom could be lifted out, and inside, there were a few small vials and needles.

Ducky had worked with him after the Wallingford case to gather what would be needed to create a truth serum. By mixing so many CCs from each bottle, and dosing their victims, they would be much more pliable. There was also a small vial of cyanide tablets that he'd acquired without Ducky's knowledge. He prayed he'd never be in the position to need them, but they would be good to use on someone else if they were trying to cover their tracks like they were this time. He packed the kit up again, making sure the vials were snuggly in their Styrofoam homes before starting upstairs to gather his personal belongings.

Gibbs caught his reflection in the mirror as he grabbed a couple of things from the bathroom and stopped. There was a brightness in his eyes that he hadn't seen for a while, and a determination in his shoulders he hadn't felt in just as long. He suddenly felt like things were getting back on track, and it was like that point in a nightmare when you finally realize it isn't real and you're going to wake up. It was a game changer, and he felt the world melting from the macabre dream into a much brighter reality, despite the danger he was walking into. He knew that Tony would have his six through everything, and together, they could take on the world.

**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**

Tony dialed Tobias in the car. He let him know that there was a break in the case, and that he and Gibbs had come up with a plan they couldn't talk about over the phone. Tobias was suspicious from the word "Gibbs", and was quick to bypass the case for the personal details.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"You told me last night to get the head clear, and I did," Tony said, trying to control his emotions and not let the idea that Fornell would be disappointed in him rule his thoughts.

"You slept with him."

"I proposed to him," Tony countered without thinking in his defensiveness.

"You _WHAT?!_" Tobias shouted through the phone. Tony steeled himself, taking a deep breath.

"This morning, after I slept with him, after I went the fuck off on him last night."

"You went off on him? I would have paid to see that. What'd you say?"

Tony chuckled to himself at how nosy and yet protective Tobias had become.

"I told him he had no right to apologize after all this time, that he's a fucking idiot, and that he's been the cause of more pain in my life than I'd wish on my greatest enemy, until I realized that he'd become my greatest enemy and he _had_ been in just as much pain. That changed things a little."

"So, what? You _propose_ to his sorry ass?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I told him that if he really wants to fix it, if he's really in it for the long haul, I want it official. No marriage is pretty. There's always going to be arguments and hurdles, and we're certainly not any different. At least going into this we're not going to have some fairytale expectation of perfection. To be honest, I kind of like that."

Tobias sighed. "You know I still think you need to deck the bastard, but if being with him is what you think is right for you, I'm not one to stand in your way. I do have a question for you though."

Tony pulled up into his apartment's lot and turned off the car. "Okay?" he asked as his hand fell into his lap with his keys.

"What are you going to do when he asks you to go back to NCIS?"

Tony sat in silence. The thought hadn't occurred to him. He remembered the weird looks that Ziva and Tim had given him in the lab when he said he was only back to help with the case, and he wondered if they held some kind of illusion that he was trying to find his way back to the team. He wasn't, but the sudden idea of having his life exactly as it had been two years before was tempting. He considered the conversation he'd had with Jethro earlier. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. They had both changed a lot. They were going to build something new, a new life together. He didn't know if that could happen if he returned to NCIS.

"DiNozzo?" Fornell asked, breaking him from his spell.

"I- I don't know. I hadn't really thought of that being an option."

Fornell sat in silence for a moment as he thought about what he was going to say, knowing that the next words to leave his mouth would be crucial to keeping one of the best agents he had ever worked with. He began slowly.

"Look, I know we've only worked together a couple of years now, and I know that the two of you, and you and the old team, have a lot of history together, but we've been through a hell of a lot in these two years. I really hope that when the time comes, you stay here. I may have ridden your case when you were with NCIS, but I always knew you were a good investigator. Jethro wouldn't have put up with you for so long, or at all, if you weren't. If there's one thing the ass knows, it's this job. But I'd like to think I've gotten to know you pretty well, and I trust you and count on you, and I kind of feel like you've had that here, too."

Tony nodded to himself as he thought of all the times Fornell pulled him outta bars and dragged him back to his place to sleep it off, making sure he was up and sober for work the next day. He thought about some pretty sticky cases they'd gotten through together, and about how Fornell had forced him to go see Meghan and sober up before he did something _really_ stupid and lost his job and professional reputation. He took a deep sigh, feeling the weight of this decision settle in his stomach. "_If_ that time comes, I'll make sure that whatever I do is right for me, and what's healthiest for me."

Fornell nodded on the other end of the line, wondering if his agent's head would be clear enough to do that when tempted with his old position under his lover. "What do you think Meghan would say about your decision to propose to Jethro?"

Tony winced. "Hopefully I can find time to tell her today, because it doesn't sound like I'll be making my Friday appointment," he said, checking his watch for the time as he got out of his car and headed up the stairs to his apartment.

"Well, get in here so we can hash this out."

"Be there soon," Tony said before disconnecting the call and sitting down on the couch in his living room. _What the hell am I supposed to do now? _He stared down at the phone in his hands for a moment, and then dialed Meghan's personal number. She'd felt compelled to give it to him in case he needed a back-up sponsor after hearing how he couldn't get ahold of Dale one night when a bad case that was pushing him. He'd barged in on Fornell in the middle of the night instead, which had worked out as they commiserated on how shitty the day had gone, but when he'd told Meghan, she offered herself up for any future needs he may have.

"Tony?" she answered. "Everything okay?"

"Uhhh… I think so. I don't know. I might be leaving today to go undercover for a case, and… I kinda did something I need to talk through." He got up, and began pacing the room.

"Okay. Well, give me a minute, and let me check on something, and I'll call you right back."

"Sounds good," Tony said, and they hung up. He got into the closet, pulled out a duffel bag, and packed a few things into it that he knew he would need. There were a couple of pairs of jeans, plain t-shirts, a plain hoodie, a pair of slacks, his hardest to wrinkle dress shirt and sweats. He added underwear, socks, deodorant, shaving cream, razors, soap and a bottle of shampoo. He changed into his favorite jeans, a tee, a black button down shirt and a black belt. He put on his most comfortable dress shoes, and tossed sneakers into his duffel. He was about to get his toothbrush and toothpaste when the phone in his pocket started ringing. He pulled it out and saw it was Meghan.

"There's no one I can move around today, but if you can come by after my four o'clock, I can stay and see you at five." Tony thought for a moment if they could wait that long to leave, and decided that they had a lot of the details to figure out, so that would probably work.

"I should be able to do that. If I don't show up, expect an email. I don't know when we're going to have to leave for this case, and once I go, I won't be able to contact you for a while, possibly weeks. I'll be dark."

"Sounds like your case broke," she said with some enthusiasm, knowing that Tony had been working on something that had his concentration for a long time now.

"Yeah. My old team has a great way of breaking things wide open, and shining light into those corners we didn't even know existed. We've found a crack, a mistake, a flaw, and it's now or never, and never is not an option."

"You're not about to go and do something stupid just to get away from Gibbs are you, Tony?"

"Heh," Tony said with a nervous chuckle. "Uhh… no. Gibbs is coming with me."

"OH. You're not about to go do this just because Gibbs is going, are you?"

"No. It's more like he's doing this because I'm going."

"Okay. You've piqued my interest! I hope to see you at five!" Tony could hear the anxiety in her voice, and was worried that he'd alarmed her.

"I'll do whatever I can to make that happen. Thanks, Meghan."

"That's what I'm here for, Tony!" Tony smiled and they hung up as he pulled his checkbook out of his nightstand and sat down to write out next month's rent. He slipped it into an envelope with a note letting the super know that he'll be gone but might have a friend staying at his place for the next two weeks, and then locked up behind him. He slipped it into the mail slot in the super's door on the way out, and pulled out his phone to call Abby as he got into his car.

"Tony! Hey! What's up?" she answered, and Tony could hear her clicking on the machines in the lab.

"If you don't hear from me for a couple of days, can you start checking up on the apartment and feeding Kate?"

"Whoa. Why? What's going on?" she asked, tensing up and freezing mid-reach to turn on Major Mass Spec.

"I have a case that might require me leaving the area for a while, and I don't want her to starve. My super knows that someone will be coming by. Do you still have your key?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's on my ring. It's the cool one with the flames on it. Kinda forgot I had it. Haven't had to use it in a while." Tony smiled at the approving pep in her voice. She'd had a copy made before Tony's sober days when he'd quite often have to have someone let him into his place once the barkeep took his keys.

"Well, use it for me. She has those little three day feeder shells and the flakes in there. Feel free to eat whatever is in the fridge. I didn't think to clean it out before I left."

"Do you think you'll be gone that long?" she asked, concern and panic rising even more in her voice.

"Might be a while, Abs."

"What's going on, Tony?" she asked quietly.

"I can't tell you, Abs. Just remember that I love you very much, and am infinitely grateful for you."

"Tony?" she said, suddenly crying. "You sound like you're saying goodbye."

"I really hope not, Abs, but this one is going to get dangerous, and though I've got good company that I trust, I just need you to know that. Please, don't get involved. I need you to promise me that you, Ziva, and Tim won't get involved. Even if the Director tells you to, I don't want you anywhere near this case. Promise me that, Abs."

"I can't promise you that, Tony," she said, tears streaming down her face, leaving little black dots on her white tee as her mascara ran.

"I need you to promise me this, Abby. If I don't know you're safe, I won't be able to concentrate, and I'm going to screw up. I need to know the people I care about are safe."

Abby swallowed hard and crossed her fingers. "I promise, Tony," she whispered.

"Uncross your fingers Abby. And your toes. Eyes and feet and legs, whatever you're doing."

"I hate when you do that," she said sniffling hard.

"Only fair. You know me pretty damn well, too."

"Okay," she said taking a deep shuddering breath. "I promise."

"Thanks, Abs. Love you." Tony hung up the phone, and turned it off. He pulled out the battery and put the pieces in his backpack. He would leave it with Fornell to keep safe until he returned.

Twenty minutes later, he was at work, standing alone with Fornell and Jethro in a tiny office with no windows and a thick wooden door.

"Okay," Fornell said, leaning back against the desk in the office, arms crossed and legs crossed at the ankles, addressing Tony while barely looking at Gibbs. "Tell me what's going on."

"McGee found a connection to our ring syphoning wi-fi outside off a school and got a mug. We have a name and address. Plan is to take him, get our information, and dispose of him mob-style to throw the trail off of us while we go for bigger fish. We probably won't get Frankie right away, but we can follow the chain."

"Why not send Pammy and Ja'Rell in? That's what they're here for."

Gibbs spoke up. "Because they've never had to use torture techniques to withdraw information, and we have."

"And frankly, I don't think they have the stomach for it," Tony said confidently. "If they made it through, it would change them in some serious ways. I don't think their heads would be in the game after torturing someone for the first time- not enough to follow through and possibly have to do it multiple times. Not to mention, if they were to get caught, and tortured, I don't think they'd live up to it. Then we'd really be screwed."

Fornell looked at the two men in front of him. He had no qualms about sending Gibbs in. He almost thought the man deserved to be caught and tortured, but he'd heard very skimmed details about Tony's time in Somalia, and he'd heard what he'd had to do in the Wallingford case right before he left NCIS. It hadn't been pretty, and he wouldn't have thought carefree, goofball Tony would have had it in him back then. He knew differently now.

"You're planning to black out, aren't you?"

"As soon as I have my appointment with Meghan at five today." Gibbs looked at him sideways wondering what that was about, but he knew he'd find out soon enough, so for now, he just played along.

"And what does Vance have to say about you going, Jethro?" Fornell asked with a bit of snark.

"He's aware, though he doesn't like that I'm keeping him out of the loop. At this point, I think he's just happy to get rid of me for a while. Though he doesn't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it, it's pretty obvious it has to do with this case, but considering Tony threatened my life if I told him or the team about the level we're playing on here, I've figured it's safer dealing with Vance's wrath. Tony has much more of a reason to kill me than he does."

Fornell nodded with a devious smile that showed his teeth as he turned an approving look on Tony. "I'll let him know what we're dealing with once you two have taken off."

"So this means we're good to go?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. I'll inform the Director that we're working multiple angles, and I'll have Gibbs added to the blanket warrant and pardon. Come see me before you leave for your new information. You know what you'll have access to and what you won't. I'm not going to tell Pammy and Ja'Rell what's happening unless they stumble upon one of your bodies- er- your victims' bodies-er- Aww hell! That's just not going to come out right. Sorry."

Tony just shrugged.

"That brings up the other issues, though. Try not to kill each other while you're out there, will ya? I don't want to have to explain to SecNav why Gibbs' body ended up in the river with cinderblocks on it. I'd certainly _try_, but I don't think we've got any more get out of jail free cards in our stash."

Tony matched his seriousness and nodded. "I know, after the last time, we'd be screwed. Plus, I lost my connection to the guy we got our cinderblocks from." Tony's face was stone still, and Fornell gave him a solemn nod of understanding.

Jethro raised an eyebrow at the jab, but simply watched Fornell leave the room, resting a hand on Tony's shoulder as he went by. He saw Tony's smirk, and he looked back and forth between the two men. Tony moved to go behind the desk and sit down in the chair, turning the PC on. Jethro turned around to see what Tony was doing, and that's when he realized there was a name plate sitting on the desk.

"This is your office?" he asked.

Tony looked up at Jethro, and then at the nameplate on the door in confusion. "Yeah?" he asked, wondering how Jethro hadn't seen that.

"Huh," he said as the realization hit him that Tony was actually comfortable in his position. He must be. He had black level security clearance, his own office, Tobias' confidence and trust to let him loose after a five minute conversation, and he was already knee-deep in the files they would need, printing them on top-secret stationary that was pre-loaded into the printer as if though he printed on it constantly.

"You seem surprised," Tony said, only halfway paying attention to the man in front of him as he started printing another set of files.

"It's just weird to think of you in the bullpen, and then in an office. Didn't think you wanted to be cooped up in a tiny room."

"It's easier to think in a tiny room with a hangover than in a big room full of sunlight and noise, and since I need a secure line, I have an office. Pammy and Ja'Rell are sharing an office down the hall. We're going to have to make sure we kinda sneak out of here later." Tony looked up with a little wince as he said that.

Jethro realized how different Tony was at work here than he was at NCIS. He had more confidence, concentration, and by the way Fornell was acting, responsibility and respect. He wondered if Vance's plans to invite Tony back to NCIS would be accepted, or if Tony was lost to the Feebs forever.

He decided not to think about it and concentrate on the case at hand. The next few weeks could change his whole outlook on a lot of things, and it could change Tony's as well. He decided to play it by ear and see where Tony was happiest. He smiled as he realized that he'd considered Tony's happiness before his own. _It's his life, he has to live it. As long as I have him back in my life, he should do whatever he needs to in order to make him happy. I just really hope I can live with his decision._

Two hours later, they snuck out of the office and down the hall to Fornell's. Tony tapped on the open door and Fornell motioned for them to come in, but he was on the phone. He hung up a minute later, and looked up at the two men.

"You two heading out?" he asked.

"Yeah. Leaving my phone with you, and a couple of other things," Tony said, plopping a plastic Ziploc bag with his phone, keys, badge and wallet on Fornell's desk.

Fornell traded him for two small cardboard boxes with brand new smartphones in them. They'd been sealed with classified tape as well, and Tony knew that they were not expected to return. Programmed by the techs, they were part of the government contract to be untraceable, just another number in the mix, not to be assigned to someone, just handed off.

Tony opened the first one, and took it out to get a feel for it. A phone number was on a sticker on the back plate, and he knew that he would have to spend an hour just teaching Jethro how to use the damn thing. He looked up to see Fornell handing him another slightly larger box.

"Just a few things you might need," he said. Tony looked at the box then looked back at him, understanding that this was not to be opened yet. He nodded. "Gibbs, can we get a minute?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs shrugged and turned to walk out of the room, catching that Tony was shooting him a reassuring smile. As he closed the door behind him, he suddenly realized a big piece of him was missing by having Tony on the other side of that door with his boss- a boss that wasn't him. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to contain the green monster trying to claw its way out of him, but he knew that his relationship depended on doing just that, so he tried hard and started taking deep breaths, ignoring the emotions as best he could.

Tony watched Gibbs close the door behind him, then turned to Fornell. "There's another phone in the box. It's only to contact your sponsor and Meghan with. You need to let them know you're going under, and that communication won't be frequent. Texts only. Calls are easier to trace. The number is on the back of the phone, and you know to take the battery out between conversations."

Tony was touched. He hadn't really thought of how he was going to keep in touch with Dale, but once again, Fornell had his back. He watched the weird nervous look on Fornell's face as he stood up and came around the desk.

"I know this is completely against everything we've ever been trained to do, but do me a favor- keep me in the loop. No details. Just use that phone to send me a number, scale of one to five, "five" being an emergency, that you need to be pulled, and "one" that everything is going great. "Three" for things are moving, but are just so-so. Not just about the case though- let me know how _you're_ doing. One through five. P for personal, C for case."

Tony could only nod. The fact that Fornell was asking him to break protocol on such a highly classified case was a profound testament to how far they'd come in the past couple of years together.

"You'd better come back from this, kid. We've put in too much effort together to have you lost to this creep. You go get him, you do what you have to do, and you come back here to us." Tony nodded again, swallowing hard. His mind wandered back to his conversation with Tobias after the separation.

_Abby had gotten the team together to take Tony drinking, and to talk things through about what Tony's options were since he couldn't take working with Gibbs anymore. Tobias had gone over to Gibbs' to drink off a case, and Gibbs had told him about the separation. He'd apparently gone off on Gibbs, and then called Tony. _

"_DiNozzo? Where the hell are you?" he asked when he was greeted by the sound of a fairly drunk Tony and loud club music. _

"_At Onyx with the team. They've brought me out drinking to get over that jackass bastard you call a friend."_

_Tobias had shown up at the club twenty minutes later, and Tony had given him a big drunken hug that Fornell laughed at. Abby had seen it from across the room where she was chatting up the DJ, and she immediately came over. _

"_If you're here to try to get Tony to go talk to Gibbs, forget it! He-"_

"_Whoa, there!" Tobias said with his hands up in defense. "I'm no messenger boy! If Jethro is going to be a dumbass and throw away the first thing in twenty years to make him happy again, that's all on him. I'm here for a much more selfish reason, and it might be a solution to your problem." Tony had eyed him suspiciously, and realized that there were starting to be two and three of him where before there was just one. He shook his head, and sat down at the bar motioning for another drink. The seat next to him opened up, and Abby sat at it while she and Fornell waited on drinks. _

_They waited a minute for them to arrive, and then Fornell turned back to Tony. "You know that Sacks' position is still open." _

_Abby looked at Tony with a slide headshake, meanwhile feeling an ache start inside as she realized that Tony really did need to leave. He had been miserable for the past couple of days, and he was only getting worse. Tim and Ziva had taken refuge in her lab under the guise of all sorts of excuses and lies, and finally, McGee had flat out told Gibbs that he couldn't be around him and Tony, and that he needed to leave for a while. _

_Tony had looked back at Fornell in confusion. They had spent plenty of nights drinking in the basement around the work table telling stories over the past six months, and though they had gotten to be surprisingly good friends, he still gave him hell during cases, and he'd never felt Tobias had taken him seriously as an agent. _

"_With the reasons for Sacks' departure, we're looking for someone we can trust to fill the position. There's a dozen candidates in the office, and it's becoming a political, ass-kissing, dramatic nightmare. Thing is, none of them deserve the position. They're all pretty mediocre. I checked your credentials, and you're already beyond them on every level. If you want it, it's yours." _

"_Wait," Tony said, "You're poaching me?"_

_Tobias smirked. "I figured I married the bastard's ex-wife and lived, how much harder could working with you be?" _

_Tony and Abby had both started laughing so hard that Tobias had to keep Tony from falling off the stool. _

"_Seriously, though. Your security clearance is at least two steps higher than any of the candidates, your input on cases has always shown insight, and you're a natural at this. We need someone who will be able to hold their own while undercover, sniff out information without alerting the wrong people, and I figure you'll keep things interesting at work now that I don't have someone to pick fights with when I'm pissed off."_

"_I don't know, Tobias. NCIS has been home for thirteen years. That's a big change." Tony looked down at his drink, playing with the little red stir straw._

"_I need someone I can trust in that spot, Tony." Tony's eyes came up to meet Fornell's and saw the truth written there. It was a genuine offer, and what he was saying was honest. "After Sacks… I can't…" _

_Tony knew the feeling that went across the older man's face intimately. He'd felt it for a long time after Danny had betrayed his trust and been found to be dirty. Sacks' betrayal not only cost him his job, but three to five years in federal prison. He thought about how Jethro had brought him on board, telling him that you don't waste good, implying that he was good. He chewed his lip as he thought. He didn't want to stop doing the work he was doing. It was his lifeblood. Working with Jethro couldn't keep happening though, and this was a way out. _

"_I need to think about it," he said quietly. Tobias smiled hopefully, and clasped Tony's shoulder. _

Fornell had spent the next two years getting Tony in and out of more trouble than either had bargained for. They'd saved each other's asses on a couple of cases, and then Fornell had pulled Tony together, getting him into therapy and sober. He'd been a constant source of support, right there with Abby, Ziva and Tim. Now, he was standing in front of him, looking like he was saying his final goodbye, sending him off with instructions and the means to break protocol.

"I'll be back, Tobias. I'll be in touch, too." Tony smiled crookedly and headed for the door, Fornell clasping his shoulder on the way out.

"You'd better, Tony," he said softly as the door shut behind the younger man. He sat heavily at his desk and considered what was happening. He felt like he had just sent his little brother off to war without the right armor, and he felt itchy all over inside.


	8. Chapter 8

_This chapter is so early because it's mostly a flashback, and because Ginger asked sooooo nicely for more! ;) Again, thank you so much for all of the feedback with this story. If you only knew how much of my heart and soul has gone into this story… just, thank you!_

Chapter Eight

Fornell sat at his desk, thinking about what he had to get in place still for the Giovanni case on his side to make sure Ja'Rell and Pammy didn't fall into Tony and Gibbs' end of the investigation. He wasn't comfortable with Tony working so closely with Gibbs, but he knew that this spin off on their case held more potential than anything else they had slated, and they really needed to break this open yesterday. He trusted Tony though, and he felt better about where the case was headed, despite his concerns. They had been through a lot together, and he was sure that Tony would send him the code texts. He took a deep breath, and his mind wandered to the night he had made Tony sober up.

_It had been a rough week of cases, and Tony had been getting edgier and edgier as the week went on. They hadn't been home at all between monitoring the Giovanni case, and going after all the others that floated across their desks. It was a sleep-under-the-desk kind of week, and they had no time for anything but a quick shower down in the gym between cases and search results. Fornell had noticed Tony's trembling for a few days, and it was getting worse. He knew Tony was going through withdrawal, and he stalked him every moment he could, making sure Tony didn't try to sneak a drink somehow._

_They'd finally been able to escape the office that Saturday, and Tony had been as ass all day. He'd snapped at Pammy, which earned him an argument with Ja'Rell, and he'd had almost no compassion with the family of the most recent victim. He wasn't rude, just kind of cold, hollow. _

_Fornell had sat in his office, waiting for Tony to leave, and made the split second decision to follow him discreetly. He had a hard time getting to his car before the younger man who had bolted out of the office, but somehow he had done it. As soon as Tony had pulled out of the lot, he was behind him. He merged into traffic a few cars back from him on the Beltway, and then off the highway much too soon. He again tried to stay back, and found Tony pulling up to a bar Fornell couldn't remember ever dragging him out of. He parked a block away and pulled his binoculars out of the glove box, watching as Tony went inside. _

_He sat in his car for an hour, giving the younger man time. By now, he probably had a couple of drinks in him, and he decided to test his theory out. He sent Tony a text asking him where an important file had ended up. Fornell's suspicions were verified when he got a rather angry text back. He had wanted to know if Tony was drunk yet, and it was evident that he wasn't quite there if he was still angry. _

_By that point, he knew Tony's stages of drunkenness. First, there was a relief, then the happy-go-lucky Tony came out to laugh a while, then he got really sad and depressed. There was a time, when they'd all drink in Gibbs' basement when that depressed part didn't usually come around unless something was mentioned about Tony's father who had recently passed, or the case had hit home in some horrible way. After the break-up, it had been a cycle Fornell could almost set his watch to. _

_He could tell that Tony hadn't even begun to hit the relief point yet, and that worried him. He expected he'd be two glasses of scotch in, or a couple of beers at least, though most likely the scotch after the week they had. That should have been enough to have him moving on towards being the happier version of Tony. He waited another half an hour, and then sent him another text telling him he had it and to drop the attitude, that he wasn't the enemy. He figured if Tony had moved forward on his typical drunken track, he would either shrug it off or joke with him, but his reply had told him that was not the case at all. _

_He looked up the phone number for the hole in the wall bar, and called them. He asked the woman who answered the phone for Tony by his description, and he got a curt "Mmmmhm," from her when he asked if he was there. _

"_Is he causing you trouble?" he asked. _

"_Not yet, but I've seen this before, and it's coming. If you know him, you might want to come get him before he mouths off to the wrong person," she said quietly into the phone. _

"_Be right there," he said and hung up the phone. "Jesus, DiNozzo. What the hell are you doing?"_

_He set the alarm on his car as he walked to the bar, and saw Tony sitting at the counter through the door as he entered. He walked up to the counter, and grabbed Tony by the sleeve of his jacket. _

"_With me, now."_

"_What the hell, Tobias!" Tony growled as he reached out to try to hold on to the bar. _

"_Now, DiNozzo!" he snapped, and pulled Tony out of the building, and down the road to his car. He opened the door and shoved Tony into the front seat, and then came around and got into the driver's side. He turned the ignition, and pulled out of the spot without waiting to put on his seatbelt. _

"_What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tony asked, his words just slightly slurring already. _

"_We need to talk, kid." Tony was taken aback by the "kid" comment. Fornell had only called him that on a few occasions, and each time was when Tony was in a bad place and needed the support, and that caused his emotions to wrestle with his anger a little, giving Fornell time to get back on the highway and head towards his house. _

"_Where are we going?" Tony asked, unsure of what all of this was about. _

"_My house." Tony saw the odd combination of emotions on Fornell's face, and it worried him even through his haze. Fornell knew it too, because he'd never heard Tony go so quiet and seen him go so still as he did then. He knew Tony was alarmed, and he was glad, because it was going to take scaring the shit out of him to fix this. _

_He'd watch Tony drink himself to a stupor multiple times after the separation with Gibbs. He'd been called to pick him up off the floor of many bars when they'd found him passed out in the bathroom, and he'd let it go because he knew how much the kid was hurting. He'd watched the hangovers increase over the past year until they were taking over his entire persona, and he was at the point where he couldn't watch him throw his life away because some bastard broke his heart. It was time to intervene. _

_They pulled up to the tiny two bedroom house he shared with Emily every other weekend and part of the summer, and he reached out to clasp Tony's shoulder. "Come on, kid- inside." Tony looked over at him with worried eyes again, and he knew some kind of bad news was coming. _

_Once they were inside, Tony sat on the couch while Fornell made coffee for them both. He plopped the can of sugar down on the coffee table next to Tony knowing he'd want it, and handed him a hot mug with a spoon in it. "Drink that." He sat on the couch and watched Tony look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he knew that the younger man was already starting to sober up the smallest bit with the odd adrenaline rush of being kidnapped and dragged to his boss' house. _

"_What's going on, Tobias?" he asked much more calmly than earlier, then started on drinking down the coffee. _

"_It's been about a year now since the split, hasn't it?" He started, choosing his words, but knowing he had to be as direct as possible. _

_Tony froze a moment, then nodded. _

"_And in that year, you haven't moved on at all." Tony glared at Fornell, and Fornell tried not to glare back. "You're not only not moving on, but you're becoming impossible to work with. You've been hateful and cold with everyone lately, and your drinking is taking over your life. Have you realized how shitty you've been this week since you haven't been able to drink? You made Pammy cry! My God! The woman has nerves of steel, and you made her cry!" Tony froze again, that lost and confused look on his face that Fornell knew meant he was trying to sort out what he was thinking. "Something's gotta give kid. You can't keep going like this."_

_Tony's confusion was overrun by a sudden flare of anger. Fornell watched as Tony stood up spouting off, not really listening too much to what he was saying, but more to how he was saying it. There was none of the calm, cool, controlled Tony DiNozzo of his NCIS days left in the ranting man before him, and he knew that if he wasn't found soon, he be gone for good. Fornell stood up, drained the rest of his coffee, and looked at Tony who stopped and stared at him, even more furious, most likely because of his lack of reaction to the outburst. _

"_You've got two choices in front of you, DiNozzo. One choice, you sleep tonight off on that couch, and you start making changes tomorrow, or two, you find your phone, call a cab, and don't come back to work on Monday."_

_Tony had looked at him in complete shock, and Fornell tried to keep his game face on. He dropped his mug in the sink, and turned around to go back through the living room to his bedroom. Tony was still standing in the middle of his living room, looking considerably paler. _

"_I can promise you this, DiNozzo- choose what's behind door number one, and you won't go through it alone." He walked past him to his room, and closed the door behind him, sliding down it and landing on the floor, shaking the slightest bit. He desperately needed Tony for the Giovanni case, but more than that, he needed someone there he could trust. Tony had been the perfect solution until lately when his attitude was changing at work to match the rest of his sour life. Twenty minutes later, after he didn't hear the front door close, he finally got to his feet and went to bed, praying that the next morning he would find his agent passed out on his couch._

_Fornell had woken up to find Tony sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. His shirt was wrinkled from trying to sleep in it, and his hand was in his tussled hair. He'd found his phone, and it was sitting in front of him on the table, a picture on the screen of Abby, Fornell, Ziva, McGee and him from at the bar the night Fornell invited him to work at the FBI. _

_Clearing his throat, Fornell moved into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee, and then sat down at the table next to Tony. "You're here."_

_Tony's red eyes looked up to meet his. "How much of me?" he asked sadly._

"_All of you, kid. We just gotta scrape off the burnt part to find it." Tony nodded, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. _

"_I don't know if I can do this."_

"_Yeah, you can. Like I said, you won't be doing it alone. You're not the first fed or cop to get to this point, and I know many that have bounced back from much worse. I'm not going to let you get that far gone, DiNozzo. This ends now."_

_Tony's eyes met his again, and Fornell thought he saw skeptic hope there. That was enough for him. _

"_First priority, sobriety. Then, I want you to talk to someone. Unloading at this point is only going to help, and I know just the person." Tony suddenly sat up shaking his head, his eyes wide. _

"_You want me to see a shrink?!" he asked incredulously. _

_Fornell nodded. "You're trying to say you don't need one? You get your heart crapped on by the man you not only love, but had idolized for twelve years, you switch agencies, you turn into a raging alcoholic with almost no friends and absolutely no attempts at dating, and you've become a workaholic on top of it all. All of that right after losing your dick of a father, may he rest in peace-"_

"_Or burn in hell, whichever works," Tony interjected._

"_Exactly my point. You'll like Feldman. She was my shrink during my divorce to Diane."_

"_You had to see a shrink during your divorce?" Tony asked, one eyebrow cocked. _

"_You've met Diane, and yet you still ask?!" Fornell asked with mock surprise. "You really do need a shrink!" Fornell shook his head, and took a drink of his coffee while chuckling. Tony chuckled too, and Fornell took that as a good sign. "Seriously though, Feldman is great. She's also who I went to talk to after Sacks turned on me." The tone the room got to be a lot more somber. _

_Tony's eyes went serious, and for the first time in months, Fornell saw sympathy in them. Tony's voice was slow and cautious as he began speaking, and Fornell felt a knot form in his stomach. _

"_I know you don't like to talk about it, and when I was NCIS, you _couldn't_, but now that I'm on the dark side of the moon, will you tell me what happened?" Tony was asking for a trust exchange, and Fornell knew it. He cleared his throat, and he took another drink of his coffee before beginning, his eyes fixed on the trim around the kitchen as he thought back. _

"_We were working the Bickling case. Guy'd been embezzling from his company for years, and he started killing off people who'd found out about it. I went in undercover as a bottom rung sales rep so that I could access the computers, and Sacks went in as janitorial so we could get access to every room in the building. They have way too much security there for us to infiltrate without being noticed, and as it was, we found out a couple of the guards were getting a bribe to allow Bickling into server rooms. _

"_The trail went cold though shortly after I came on board. I tried to tough it out, but hell, I'm no sales rep, and I tried, but couldn't hack it. After a few weeks, I had to bow out. I did find something interesting while searching through their systems though. There was a good chance we could get him on tax evasion."_

_Tony nodded, seeing the way the door opened. "So, naturally, you called Diane."_

"_Yeah. I just wanted to run things by her, but she got cocky, as usual, and jumped in feet first. She went in and not only nailed the interview, but she was actually doing really well with the job for a few weeks. She started flirting with the guy to try to make her way in, sending signals up through the other women she worked with by asking if he was single, all that bullcrap, and the guy was falling for it. _

"_Meanwhile, Sacks began getting propositioned by the guy to be let into the server room. He told me later that he asked Bickling why he needed to get in there so badly, and Bickling let him know that if he got access to that room, he could shut down the server with the security protocols in it so that he could swindle the cash out of the company. It only had to be about three minutes every week, and yet it reaped in about a hundred grand each time. We later found out he'd been doing it for over three years." _

_Tony whistled. "That's a lot of dough. I wonder what took them so long to figure it out."_

"_They're idiots."_

"_And why did he buddy up to Sacks and tell him?"_

"_That's the kicker. Sacks had heard from the guards that he was occasionally sniffing around to get in, and when they held out, he'd pay more in desperation. He figured if he didn't hold out, and just took whatever the first bribe offered was, he'd become a favorite, and he was right. He'd heard all that on the first day, and he didn't tell me. His cover had a rep of being the bad boy. A small rap sheet, lots of in and out kinda jobs, that sorta thing, and he was living up to it. I thought he was playing it up. The more and more he was in the position though, the more and more he actually got caught up with the rotten eggs. _

"_He started letting Bickling into the server room, taking the bribes, and didn't tell me. One night, Bickling came in asking the guards to turn off a couple of cameras. He said he was going to try to go sneak in a little nooky with the new redhead in sales. They all chuckled and laughed it up, but Sacks was right there mopping the floors, and he followed the guy, and he told him that Diane was an undercover agent, and not to trust her."_

"_Was he doing it to protect her?" Tony asked confused. _

"_I think at that point, he probably still was. The guy was then suddenly leery of Sacks though, and so then the little bastard threw me under the bus. Told him he'd seen us together talking about who we were targeting. At that point, the guy started plotting against Diane, planning on taking her out. In the end, Sacks took a bribe from him to sneak him into a service entrance after hours."_

_Tony shook his head. "That's… I mean, the guy was always a total jerk to me, but I never thought he'd do something that… stupid? He didn't know, right? That he was going to kill her?"_

"_Yeah. He knew. He knew enough that he'd text me the emergency code, and then he tried to bail. Really bail. Running-away-to-Tahiti-bail. Bickling had dropped a hundred g's on him. If I hadn't shown up when I did, if I hadn't been coming to meet her anyway, Diane would have had to take care of him herself, if she could have. She was passed out face first on her desk when I showed up, her phone ringing right next to her, from where I was calling her constantly to try and warn her. Trying to keep up with the cover and her own work had her exhausted, and she was sound asleep." Fornell shook his head. "I may not be able to stand the woman, but she _is_ my daughter's mother, and they're very close. I wouldn't wish that on anyone to lose their mother, but especially not my little girl."_

"_Why did he do it?" Tony asked in quiet disbelief. _

"_The money. We found out that each bribe to get into the server room was a grand. Bickling had befriended him, took him to the casino with him, out to clubs, whatever. We considered it keeping up his cover, and were hopeful that getting Sacks this close to him would get our murder conviction. We had no idea he wasn't doing it for the job. It all seemed like legit cover activity, you know? We picked him up at the airport once we flagged his credentials, which the dumbass was trying to use to get through security." _

"_He really sold out. I've seen money do twisted things to people. Then again, between my own father and Danny, it shouldn't surprise me." Tony reached for his coffee, already wishing it was a beer instead. _

"_That's why it's so important to me that you get through this, DiNozzo. I know I can trust you. I need you back on your game. This Giovanni case is looking uglier every day, and with Pammy and Ja'Rell on board now, I need to know I have someone in my corner if the shit hits the fan."_

"_You don't trust them?" Tony asked, an eyebrow cocking. _

"_A little more maybe than the others, considering their records, but not like I know I can trust you."_

_Tony sat there considering what he was being told, and he grit his teeth. Fornell could see a small spark of Tony's former self shining through, and he tried not to smile. _

"_So, how do I do this? How do I move forward from here?" he asked. _

"_I guess that's up to you. Handful of programs out there, and they all work differently. Let me know what you choose, and I'll do my best to make sure we can work your schedule to accommodate."_

_Tony nodded with a deep sigh. "It really has gotten that bad, hasn't it?"_

"_Yeah. You've been slipping away more and more, and I pretty much figured you'd plateau and come back down, but instead, you're trying to hike Everest. You're more yourself right now than I've seen you since you were with Jethro." He had said it intentionally to gauge Tony's reaction, and when he got a sharp wince out of the younger man, he nodded. "I'll get you Meghan's number, too. Let me know when your first appointment is." Tony rolled his eyes. "That's not optional. You staying with this agency is contingent on these two things- get clean, talk to someone. It's gonna get rough, but like I said, you're not going to go through the wringer alone."_

"_Heh," Tony said. "What? You gonna quit drinking, too? Ha! Sure."_

_Fornell looked back at the defeated look that crossed his agent's face again, and he knew he had to jump in the fire. "If that's what you think you'll need, sure." Tony's neck cracked as he turned to look at Fornell with disbelief until he saw the steady look he was getting. _

"_You mean that, don't you?" Tony asked with that same confused disbelief he'd had all morning. _

"_Yeah, why not? If you think that will help, least I can do." _

_He'd kept that promise, and hadn't had a drink since, and neither had Abby who had come over to help them research his program options that day. _

Fornell sat at his desk, looking at the door Tony and Gibbs had just walked out of together. He wondered if Tony would come back in one piece, both physically and mentally, and he suddenly realized that if there was ever a time for a drink, it was at that moment. The dread and worry that consumed him was unreal, and he wondered how he'd let the kid get so far under his skin.

((NCIS))NCIS((NCIS))

Abby stared off into space for a moment, feeling like the wind had just been kicked out of her. She had just gotten word from Tim that Gibbs wasn't at his desk, and that there were no signs he had come in yet. She suddenly realized that Gibbs is who Tony referred to when he had said he had trustworthy company on his new adventure. She sat right where she was on the floor, feeling like the world was crashing down around her.

Tony had told her a goodbye that let her know he was going off into extremely dangerous territory with this op. He'd never done that in his entire NCIS career, and he'd been in some pretty close calls. Now, she finds out that Gibbs is with him? She suddenly realized how attached she was to Gibbs still, and how much it hurt that they had gotten so distanced.

McGee's voice came through the phone, and she couldn't respond. She sat there shaking on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Two minutes later, McGee was at her side, crouching down next to her, brushing the hair out of her face. He took the phone from her hand that was still pressed against her ear, and turned it off

"Abs? Talk to me? Please? What's wrong?"

"They might not come back," she finally whispered, and turned her head to full on sob against McGee's shoulder.

"Abby, we don't even know where Gibbs is. Maybe he's being briefed over at the FBI or something. Maybe he went to talk to that mystery person he went to talk to yesterday. Don't worry until we know something more substantial." He had no idea what had set their goth off, but she was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Tony called me this morning. He made me promise not to go looking for him, not to get involved in whatever case he got pulled into. He made me promise not to let you guys get involved, even if Vance tells us to."

McGee took the words with a hard swallow. "And you think Gibbs is with him."

"Tim? He told me goodbye," her sobs started racking her body, and she held on to McGee tightly. He sat heavily next to her on the floor as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, not sure how to console her when he felt his own stomach starting to come unraveled.

He wondered what had set off their investigation, and he realized that it was his discovery of who had activated the mob's cell phones. He knew where to begin the search.

"You may have promised, Abs, but I didn't, and Ziva didn't. We'll figure it out, and if they need us, we'll be there." Abby sat up but not out of McGee's embrace, wiping her nose.

"You can't, McGee. It's too dangerous."

"That's exactly _why_ we have to. Leave it to Ziva and I. We'll take care of them. We won't get involved unless we have to, but when we have to, we'll be there." Abby looked a little calmer and finally pulled away from McGee, rubbing her eyes.

"Okay. Let me know what I can do."

McGee steeled himself for the battle ahead of him, but shook his head firmly. "No."

"What do you mean, "no"?" Abby said with a huff.

"You made a promise to Tony, and you need to keep that. You can't keep us from getting involved, but you need to stay out of it. If it's what I think it is, I don't want you anywhere near it either. It's not safe."

Abby looked like she was about to start crying again.

"We'll keep them safe, Abs. If the time comes, and I need you, I won't hesitate to call, but I don't want you even trying to research anything related to this case."

"You mean this has to do with the Giovanni case," she said plainly.

"I'd suspect so since it's the one they were working on together before going dark. If they are going this deep, there are reasons, and sniffing around could get them in trouble if it sets off the wrong bells and whistles. You'll only be endangering them more if you go snooping, so please, stay out of it."

That thought hadn't occurred to her. She groaned in exasperation. "Will you at least keep me in the know about what you guys are doing? I can't worry about them _and_ you."

Tim sighed, and looked Abby in the eyes. "If there are things I can tell you, I will. I don't expect there's going to be too much to tell though. We'll try to keep pace with them, figure out what they're doing, and if the time comes where they need back-up, we'll be there."

McGee got up from the floor, and reached out his hand to help Abby up. As soon as they were on their feet, she hugged him tightly. "If anything happens Timmy, tell Gibbs and Tony that I love them."

Tim hugged her back fiercely, knowing that she understood just how dangerous this was. "I promise, Abs." He let her go, and with one final look, he headed towards the door.


	9. Chapter 9

_If I were in the habit of naming chapters, I would name this one Revelations. I'm not, it's just too much effort, but if I did… ;) Thanks for all of the love you shared with last week's chapters! I'm really glad y'all are enjoying the friendship between Fornell and Tony. I guess I still have a few tricks up my sleeve after all :D_

Chapter Nine

Tony led Jethro to a silver four door car in the lower level of the garage. Tony unlocked it, and Jethro looked at him, wondering where he got the key. He didn't like not knowing everything Tony knew about the basics of what they were doing, like where their safety zones would be, how to contact for help, where the car came from, what kind of procedures they were expected to follow, and what exactly was covered under the pardon and warrant. He knew that he was really following Tony's lead on this, and he was going to have to trust him, but the professional distance between them was causing an ache inside, and an itchy feeling across every nerve in his body.

They slipped their seatbelts on, and pulled out of the lot.

"I'm going to go get us checked into the motel, and then go see Meghan. My laptop is in my bag, so you'll be able to research what you need to, and when I get back, we can go over the plan in deeper detail."

Jethro looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Meghan?" he asked.

Tony nodded, realizing what Jethro was asking. "My therapist."

Jethro nodded slowly. "Guess there's a lot to go over with her."

"Oh, yeah. Not really sure what she's going to think, but honestly, I don't care." He smiled at Jethro, and reached to take his hand. Jethro smiled back and took it. Their fingers folded together, and Jethro sighed deeply.

It had been so long since that small gesture had been something normal, and it settled tensions in him that he didn't even know he'd been feeling for so long. It was one of the things he loved about being with Tony. The younger man craved physical contact. When they were together last time, he'd stood really close to him as often as possible, and he always had his hands on him, or was leaning against him on the couch. Their hands were clasped every day in the car on the way to and from work, and it helped ease the tension of long work days when they couldn't be themselves around each other.

When they would go for walks in the park down the road from the house, sometimes he'd reach out and take Tony's hand in his, not realizing it for a long few minutes. When he'd realized it the first time, he suddenly tensed, and then decided that he simply didn't care that they were in public, that he'd take whatever came their way. He'd never thought that they'd be put in the position to have to choose between the job and each other. Like Vance had said though, they should never have been put in that position.

However, as he looked at Tony, he saw the confidence he'd gained, and the more serious edge he now carried. For the first time since they had run into each other the morning before, he wondered if maybe this could be better than last time. Tony seemed more grounded than he had ever been. Jethro had definitely noticed that Tony didn't have the same carefree, hyper goof-off mentality that he had before, but he had always known that most of that was a front anyway. He found himself even more attracted to this more serious version of Tony, and he considered what spending the rest of his life with him would be like.

Tony felt Jethro's eyes on him as they travelled down the road, and he tried to read him without watching him directly. He'd felt Jethro's tension all day, but as soon as he'd taken his hand, it had vanished. He wondered if he had been too distant as they talked to Fornell and worked on gathering the information they would need to take with them.

In the past, they would have probably talked a little more intimately and joked around while they gathered their thoughts, but now, they were different, and they were feeling those differences. He wondered how they were going to do this. Should he try harder to be more like who he used to be? He was getting to be pretty happy with who he was becoming. He enjoyed the respect her had earned from his colleagues at the FBI, and he was focused in a different way than he had been at NCIS. There was a new balance in his life where work and play had switched, with more work and less play, and he was fine with that. He wasn't sure if he wanted that to change.

He wished he had a direction book or manual, something like, How to Get Back With Your Ex 101, or How to Act When Your Past Meets Your Present. Perhaps even Emotions for Dummies. He was afraid of scaring Jethro off with who he was now, and he decided he'd try to lighten up just a little and recapture a bit of his playful side. _How to do that when I'm about to hunt at least one man down and torture him, I'm not sure, but I guess I can figure it out. _

They pulled up in front of the hotel, and Tony pulled out the box that had the second phone in it, and opened it up. He ignored the looks he got from Jethro, and pulled out the small Ziploc bag he knew would be there. There was a stack of credit cards and two fake IDs with their pictures on it. He read the names and laughed.

"That asshole," he said.

Jethro looked at him and then at the ID.

"The names. He's pulling a Ms. Congeniality on me." When Jethro looked at him in confusion, he explained. "In Ms. Congeniality, Sandra Bullock goes undercover in a beauty pageant, and she gets pissed about the assignment. As a joke, they give her this flamboyantly girly name she'd spouted off in a tirade. It's one of Ziva's flicks. Anyway, Fornell and I were on stakeout, and through the night we came up with the worst possible undercover name ideas ever. This was the winner."

He held up the ID so Jethro could see it. He squinted, and laughed out loud. "Gaylord Dickenshire? Yeah, he's an asshole."

"Don't laugh yet! You haven't see yours!" He handed it over, and Jethro looked down at it.

"Richard Dickenshire?" He snapped up to look at Tony. "You're going to call me Dick, aren't you?"

"Every chance I get!"

"Dick Dickenshire?" Jethro groaned, thinking Fornell was the real dick here. He tossed his head back on the headrest, then something occurred to him, and his head jerked back up. "Wait a minute- we have the same last name."

"I have a feeling Fornell figured if we posed as a couple, it would make things easier for us."

"How much does he know about… us?"

"I told him that we're back together, and engaged." Tony shrugged. "Pretty much tell him everything these days."

Jethro nodded slowly in surprise.

"Just consider this a practice run, Dick!" Tony said as he got out of the car and grabbed his stuff from the trunk.

Jethro looked around aimlessly for a moment as he considered that. _Practice run… _He shook off the stun of it, and then joined Tony at the trunk.

Tony headed for the front office and arranged a room for them. It wasn't the shadiest motel by any means, but it wasn't exactly known for its creature comforts either. They got into their room, and Jethro smirked at the single king sized bed. They plopped their bags down on it, and Tony set up the laptop, arranging the security measures on it to make sure it was ready so that Jethro could use it to run searches while he was gone. He then took out the smartphone and made sure Jethro knew how to use it. Jethro had apparently had to upgrade his work phone since their separation, and to Tony's surprise, he was actually able to maneuver through it a little easier than expected.

Fifteen minutes later, Jethro was already brewing a cup of coffee, and Tony was getting up to leave for his appointment with Meghan.

"See you in two hours. I'll call you when I leave, and we can go grab some dinner."

"Sounds good. See ya soon, Tony," Jethro said, looking at Tony with stiff tension in his shoulders, and Tony saw the hesitation in Jethro's expression. Tony smiled and shook his head, stepping up to his lover and wrapping his arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Jethro's hands went around Tony's waist immediately, and pulled him close. The kiss deepened, and Tony felt Jethro's desperation.

"It's okay. I'll be back soon," he said quietly. Jethro just nodded, resting his forehead against Tony's. Tony leaned forward to kiss him again, and then pulled away with a smile.

Jethro watched as he left, unsure about so many things, and without Tony there, he suddenly felt empty.

(((NCIS)))(((NCIS)))(((NCIS)))

Tim had rushed upstairs to the bullpen to find Ziva just getting back from the range. He pulled her towards the elevator by the shoulder, ignoring her protests.

"McGee! What's going on?" she asked as he pushed the button to stop the elevator.

"Gibbs and Tony went dark today. Vance hasn't told me yet, but Tony called Abby this morning and let her know that he was going under, and made her promise to stay away from the case. He told her something apparently like a final goodbye, and then when I told her that Gibbs hadn't come in, she practically had a nervous breakdown. We've got to do something."

Ziva's eyes were wide, but she kept her voice calm. "I do not mean to sound insensitive, but do you think Abby could just be over-reacting?"

"No. I made a breakthrough last night right as I was packing up. I went over the results with Gibbs, and he said we'd tackle it in the morning. Apparently he and Tony decided it couldn't wait."

"They are going undercover together. That means that they must have spoken last night. This could mean interesting results at our attempts to reunite them."

McGee paused, having not considered that. "True, but at what cost? You know how Tony has been lately. He wouldn't tell Abby goodbye unless he thought there was a good chance he might not come back. She means more to him than any of us."

Ziva nodded. "What do you propose we do?"

"We need to go under ourselves, but I'm not sure Vance is going to let us. If we can convince him that they need to be followed from afar though, he might allow it. The fact that he hasn't told me yet makes me wonder if he even knows. I'm almost afraid to ask. If he doesn't know, and he makes us start digging into this, we could tip off the wrong side that we're involved."

"Should we not tell him? Should we just leave?" Ziva asked, crossing her arms as she looked at McGee for some kind of direction.

"Vance would kill us," McGee said with a slight groan as he leaned back against the wall.

"Well, with Gibbs gone, _you_ are technically in charge. What do you want to do?"

McGee's head shot up, and he looked at Ziva with wide eyes. "Holy shit, I'm in charge," he said quietly and with so much terror that Ziva couldn't stifle the laugh that escaped her.

"Yes, you are. It is up to you to decide what we do next."

McGee stood up straight, set his jaw and stared at the wall for a moment as he processed all of the possible outcomes of their options. Ziva waited patiently, knowing the blank look coming from her teammate hid much more going on underneath. After a long minute, he looked at Ziva.

"Let's go."

NCIS—NCIS—NCIS

Tony pulled up outside of Meghan's office, and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what she was going to think about how quickly he had jumped at the chance to be back with Jethro. He contemplated not telling her that he'd asked Jethro to marry him. In the field, he was known for quick and precise decision making with a calm clear thought process for what the possible outcomes would be, but he never rushed into things that were important to him in his day to day life. To suddenly ask Jethro to spend the rest of his life with him, when he hadn't seen him for two years that were full of self-destructive torment, was going to appear foolish to everyone on the outside, but in his head, it made perfect sense. He asked himself if he thought the decision was healthy for him, if it was right, and he still believed that it was.

He got out of the car and hit the keychain fob, sending a toot through the air, and headed for the door. Stopping at the front desk to sign in, he took a seat and waited. He started programming things into his new phone, and pulled the second one out of his other pocket.

He put Dale's phone number in it under 'S' for 'sponsor', and then added Meghan's under 'F' for her last name. A few minutes later the door opened, and Meghan walked a tall slender woman to the door. After she said goodbye, she turned to see Tony and smiled.

"Come on in!" she said with a wave of her hand. Tony followed her in, and sat in an armchair across from her.

"Sounds like you're having a hell of a week, Tony," she started with a slightly sympathetic look and a shake of her head. "Take it from the top for me."

Tony took a deep breath and began.

"Well, after I called you yesterday, I ended up getting stuck working with Gibbs and the old MCRT all day on the case. It was really great working with everyone again, but the case meant we had to really put aside dealing with the big issue. We hinted at it through the day, and despite how angry I wanted to be at him, it…" Tony shook his head, trailing off.

"It what?" Meghan asked quietly watching the far off look in Tony's eyes. He suddenly looked right back at her, and the calm, solid confidence he exuded made her feel like she was talking to a completely different man than she had been working with for the past 9 months.

"It felt like everything in my life that has been out of place for the past two years was suddenly right back to where it was supposed to be, despite the tension, the anger, the being on different teams... Actually, I think it feels even more right being on different teams. That need to follow his lead isn't there, and I feel stronger around him than I ever did.

"I had to inform him about the case, and about how dangerous it was going to be so that he could keep Abby, Tim and Ziva out of the line of fire, and he got pissed- really pissed. I thought he was going to be mad that I was telling him to step out of it, but instead he was mad that I was involved. He didn't want me so close to it, and all day, I saw that he was just as miserable and screwed up about us as I have been. We were going our separate ways last night, and he flat out apologized to me, telling me that he knows he's screwed up, and he told me he was going to find a way to keep me from getting involved in this case any further, because it's going to be especially dangerous for me."

"That was probably hard to hear after being so angry at him for so long. How'd you feel about that?"

Tony sighed. "I was unbelievably pissed. And moved. And pissed." He shook his head again as he replayed the scene from last night in his head as he stared off into space. "I went to a meeting, barely able to pay attention to it at all, and then went back to the office to go over stuff with Tobias, and he told me to snap out of it. I wasn't feeling focused, and he was right, this case is way too important to have my head somewhere else, so I did what I had to do. I went to Gibbs' house, and I went off on him."

"Sounds cathartic. How did it go?" she asked.

"We're engaged."

"WHAT?!" she yelped, suddenly sitting forward as she looked at Tony in shock, making Tony rub the back of his head as he smiled a goofy smile. "I _know_ I just misheard you. You didn't just say engaged."

"Yeah. Well, I went off, and next thing I know, he's in front of me, and he's telling me how miserable he's been too, and how he'd give anything to go back and change things, and I think he went to hug me or something, and I grabbed his arms, and next thing you know, the old sparks are flying and we're all over each other." Tony hadn't been with anybody since Gibbs, so he wasn't used to talking about his sex life with Meghan. He found it humorous that he, of all people, had become shy of talking about sex.

"Okay, so, how does sex equal engagement?" Meghan asked, still shocked.

"I woke up first," Tony started, then took a breath, trying to decide on how to explain it,

"You woke up first?" Meghan asked in confusion, and Tony nodded before he continued.

"It was the most emotional love making of my life, and when I woke up in the middle of the night, I couldn't stop thinking about how now that I had him back in my arms, I couldn't possibly let him go again. I thought for sure when we first kissed that I'd regret it, but I didn't, not for a second, and I still don't. Seeing how he'd been right there down Miserable Lane with me, still not over it either, was excruciating. Then, as I'm lying there, he starts having a nightmare, and talking in his sleep, begging me not to go. He was dreaming about me, about me not being there when he woke up, and he suddenly had this death grip on me. He woke up crying, and when he realized I was really there…"

Tony felt his eyes misting up, and it caught both he and Meghan off guard when he had to reach up and wipe them.

"I knew I could never leave him again, and I _knew_ that he would never leave me again. I asked him why he hadn't come to talk to me sooner, why he hadn't just sucked it up. He told me that he'd been doing the same damn thing I'd been doing, drinking himself into oblivion as he tried to talk himself into it, but he couldn't. He didn't want to find out I'd moved on. He thought I'd come back to the team eventually if he would just leave me alone long enough to cool down, and that that little bit of hope had been the only thing keeping him going, and trust me, when I ran into him yesterday morning, he was barely going."

He stopped for a minute, collecting himself.

Meghan sat silently. Hearing stories about Gibbs had defined him in a certain way, and she had pictured him as a hard-ass. To think of the man who she had been imagining for months now in the position Tony had just described had her feeling sympathy for him, and that confused her. She'd taken a liking to Tony from the beginning, and she felt oddly protective of him. Those feelings had made her despise Gibbs, and yet now, those hard feelings were crumbling like ancient bricks. She came to understand a much bigger picture where both men were suffering deeply.

"I'm not under the belief that everything is perfect now. We're already learning just how different we are from who we used to be, and neither of us have any wild beliefs that it's going to ever be what it once was. It's going to be different, and I'm actually excited about that. As we said last night, or I guess really early this morning, a couple of steps towards each other each, and we'll learn to become something new together, something better, something stronger.

"Marriage is just a promise to constantly try to be there for each other, and loving another person enough that you are willing to commit to spend the rest of your life trying to make your relationship work. No marriage is perfect, no relationship is perfect, but most people, at least in my experience, go into marriage thinking that everything from there on out is some kind of happily ever after fairytale, but _we_ already know going into the game that it's far from it, and yet we want it. We want it enough that we've held on two years for it, and we're willing to fight through the rest of our years together to keep it."

Meghan took a deep breath, and let it out. "You know how this looks from here, right? I mean, I definitely see where you're coming from, and maybe six months from now, if you guys had a real chance to see those differences that the past two years have caused, and were this full of conviction, I'd understand better, but this is kind of terrifying to watch. You've been through a lot this year as you've rebuilt your life, and I'd hate to see it take a hard blow if this doesn't turn out the way you want it to."

"I know what it looks like. It looks absolutely crazy. I get that, I do, but I really can't care what everyone else is going to think about this. My head is probably clearer right now than it has been in two years. I'm prepared for the fights, the frustration, but I'm also excited about learning to be this new thing; to merge the old relationship with the new. There's already signs of a new kind of balance, and no matter what happens from here on out, I'm already seeing that I'm a lot stronger and self-reliant than I was in the old version of our relationship. I'm also seeing that he's letting me take care of him more, and I like the role reversal. We're more equal now than we ever were."

Meghan looked at Tony, and saw that he honestly believed everything he was saying. She noticed how much more relaxed his posture was than it had ever been. There was a bright confidence in Tony's eyes she wasn't familiar with. He was definitely a lot more confident and grounded since she had begun seeing him, but there was a whole new light in his gaze, and it was unwavering as he talked. She wasn't sure she would ever condone the quick proposal, but she definitely supported whatever it was going to take to keep moving Tony in the direction he was going.

"It has to be your decision, just make sure that your decisions are what's best for you; what's healthy, what's right. You're the only one who really knows what you need, and as long as you're completely honest with yourself, you know I'll support you. Have you told Tobias and Abby?"

"Tobias, yes, Abby, no."

"You haven't told Abby?" Meghan asked in surprise.

"The case," Tony simply said.

"Oh. That messy?"

"I might not come back from this one," he said matter-of-factly.

Meghan looked at him like she hadn't heard him. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"We're up against an issue of national security. I'm going to be in deep cover for a while. There was a breakthrough in the case last night, and Jethro and I are going under. We hatched a plan, and the only person who knows any details about it is Tobias. As soon as I leave here, it's game on. I was given a phone that I can use to text you and my sponsor though. I'm not planning on using it unless I really have to. Don't expect to hear from me unless this goes beyond a few weeks."

"I'm glad you'll have a way to be in touch with us. That has Tobias written all over it."

Tony smirked, and nodded.

"It's the danger of doing this job," she said. "I get to know a lot of amazing agents, and not all of them make it back to me, or make it back in one piece."

"I'm not sure Jethro is going to be my top priority of conversation when I make it back."

Meghan raised an eyebrow.

"This case is going to drag up a lot of professional baggage, and that's if we meet our best case scenario. It's one of those, 'you gotta do what you gotta do' situations."

Meghan nodded, remembering Tony telling her details of the Wallington case, and the description of the pain he'd had to inflict in order to find the answers they needed. She got the definite vibe that Tony was going to have to venture down that road again.

"Don't lose yourself out there, Tony. You can't put yourself back together if you don't have all the pieces."

Tony smiled sadly, knowing she understood what he was up against.

"I'm just hoping to come back at all," Tony said. He got to his feet, looking down at the pale woman across from him. "I'm going to do my best though, and I know that Jethro will have my back. It's funny, as much as I trust Tobias, even McGee, Ziva, Abby… no one has the power to make me feel so protected, so invincible, as Gibbs. I might not come through, but I know the dangers of my job, and I wouldn't do it if I didn't believe in what I was doing. No matter what happens, this one is worth it."

Meghan nodded, a sad smile forced across her face.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you've done for me this year."

"Nope! That's it!" she said as she got to her feet. "No goodbyes. That starts a negative domino, and I won't have it! You go do what you have to do, but you'd better be right back in this office in a few weeks. Here," she said, turning to her appointment book open on her desk. "We'll schedule it. Three Tuesdays from now, 8AM." She took an ink pen, and wrote Tony's name in her book. It was a stark contrast to the erasable pencil she used for all of the other appointments she had listed. "Now, don't make me change it. It's in pen, and you know how I feel about scratching things out."

Tony smiled at her. "Eight. Got it." He turned on his heels and headed for the door, stopping to look back before walking through. His eyes met Meghan's, and they exchanged sad smiles before he left to head back to the hotel.

((NCIS))NCIS((NCIS))

McGee and Ziva had bustled into the bullpen, grabbed their things, and took off before Vance had the time to hunt them down. They signed out a car, and then went to McGee's for a more substantial go-bag, and then left the car in the parking lot of Ziva's townhouse after she had gotten more things from her place as well. McGee pulled out two small keys from his pocket and handed one to Ziva, then slipped the other on his own keyring.

"What is this to?" she asked.

"You'll see," he said. She followed him a few blocks down the road, and they caught a bus across town. She sat quietly, wondering where McGee was leading her, but trusting him. They got off of the bus and walked another block to a bank. There was a doorway to the left of the tellers that Tim led Ziva through, then he approached a second door, punched a code into a panel, and then pressed his thumb against a reader. The door opened and he went through, Ziva following close behind silently, understanding the key. McGee went right to a deposit box without hesitation, and stuck the key in.

Turning to Ziva, he pointed to the box. "It's box 512, for May of 2012, when the bomb went off outside of NCIS," he said quietly. "Your fingerprints, Tony's, Gibbs', Abby's and Ducky's are all programmed into the system here to get in if you ever need to. After the bomb went off, I started putting together a contingency plan. We're activating it. If this is as bad as Tony has led Abby to believe it is, we might need to come back here.

Tim pulled a slim metal box the size of a pack of cigarettes out of the box and flipped it open. Ziva watched in interest as he sorted through a stack of cards and handed a few to her, then took a few for himself. He slipped his own driver's license and credit cards out of his wallet and put it in the box, and then reached his hand out for Ziva's. Ziva looked at him in surprise, and then pulled her wallet out. She handed them over to McGee, and he put them in the box.

"There's enough cards in there to establish two more identities for each of us, and three for each of the others. The code to get through the main entrance is 27130, the address for the office."

"You have been very busy, McGee," she said with an approving tone.

"It's Tom McGavin for now," he said with a small smile and shrug.

"And I am Sarah Davis."

"For now. Let's hope you get to be Ziva again sooner than later." He went towards the door, and Ziva looked at him for a moment. She had never expected McGee to be doing something so important behind the scenes for them all.

"McGee? How far will these new identities take us? How elaborate are they?"

He froze before putting in the passcode to get them out of the room. He motioned for her to join him around the small table in the middle of the room. She sat, her bag going to the floor next to her, and leaned her elbows on the table as she waited for Tim to begin.

"You can be Sarah Davis for the rest of your life if you need to. Sarah has a birth certificate in the system with Israeli background, the credit cards are tied to a real credit score, the debit cards are tied to real bank accounts. She has her own social security number, and there's a whole string of little seeds planted that would spring to life if we fully activate her. Every identity in that box is a real person in the tech world. They have past addresses on file, if you did a background search they have former employers, and all of Gibbs' identities even have ex-wives. All of Tony's profiles have a history of lung disorders with the original diagnosing doctors all being deceased respiratory specialists. I've spent three years creating these lives from scratch in hopes that we'd never need them, maintaining them, keeping the cards active, building on them." He cleared his throat, and then sighed as he saw the shock registering in Ziva's expression. "If anything happens that makes you even think that the Giovannis might go after Abby and Ducky, activate them, Ziva. Don't hesitate. I know how to track you all down if I need to. Get them, and leave the rest of the IDs in the box."

Ziva looked at Tim like she had never seen him before. She suddenly felt like he was a stranger. She didn't doubt that he was capable of doing all of this, but she had never suspected in a hundred years that he would have actually done it.

"Do Gibbs and Tony know about this?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "The Wallingford case."

She nodded back solemnly. She froze as she looked up at him. "You do not think they will- this time- I mean-"

"Probably," Tim said quietly. Ziva felt a cold chill going down her back as she remembered the remains of the last man Tony and Gibbs had tortured. She remembered the way that Tony was covered in blood, and the cold look in his eyes for weeks afterwards. Gibbs wasn't much better. She'd had to do a lot of damage in her day, but that was brutal, even to her ex-Mossad memory. She hoped whoever they were after would talk fast and cave soon under the pain they'd undergo.

Tim saw her reaction. "Last time was personal. I don't think this time will be that bad."

Ziva nodded and swallowed hard, unable to look at him. "I hope you are right."

Tim stood up, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Come on. We need to get burn phones and a car."

Ziva nodded again, got up from the chair and tried to steel her resolve, but all she could think about were the remnants of the man that Tony and Gibbs had pulled part at the seams two years ago, and the idea that they might be about to do it again.


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm hoping to start posting two chapters a week starting next week! I'm almost finished with it, and am super excited to share it all with you! Thanks for all of the support :) _

Chapter Ten

McGee and Ziva managed to procure a rental car without any difficulty, and by noon, had loaded it up with things they might need while spending significant time in it. At that point, Tim let Ziva take the wheel, knowing she was better at tailing someone inconspicuously than he was. Tim pulled out his back up laptop, and began working to get it up and running with everything he needed in order to track Tony's phone. He pinged it, and the program showed that it was still at the Hoover building.

They headed towards the building, and found a metered spot about a block away. Ziva pulled out a small pair of binoculars to watch the cars as they left, and Tim put two dollars in change in the meter. They sat quietly for a long time, Ziva watching for cars with two people in them, and Tim going back and forth between watching and tracking down the information that he suspected Tony would be tracking if they were going to go after Don Parleurs.

They were snacking on some of the stuff they had grabbed when Ziva suddenly turned the car over and pulled out onto the street. McGee sat back and slipped his seatbelt on. Ziva reached over and grabbed hers, pulling it across her chest and handed it off to Tim to buckle for her.

"I figure they'll go after Parleurs tonight while he's at work or on the way to work. If I were them, I'd raid his place first though, so we might have to wait until the guy gets off work tonight. His most recent tax records and bank account deposits all come from some minimart. I called up there last night, and asked for Don, and they told me to expect him working third shift, and that if it was a _"personal business issue"_, to come in person. Must be dealing from the place."

Ziva watched Tony turn left at the next intersection and saw she was going to miss them at the light. She hung a hard left down an alley, and came out the other side in time to watch Tony drive down another block and onto the ramp to merge with Beltway traffic. Tim saw too and grabbed the handle above his door, closing his eyes. Ziva flew out into traffic and got onto the highway, able to see Tony and Gibbs ahead of her a bit. She sped up, and when she was close enough, she hung back behind another car a lane over.

Tim opened his eyes again once he felt the danger levels change, shook it off, and went back to researching on his computer.

First thing he tried to do was ping Tony's cell phone again. He couldn't, but he'd expected that. He took out a camera from the bag at his feet and tried to zoom in on the license plate of the car. He took a dozen pictures as Ziva tried to change lanes inconspicuously so he could get the shot. He finally got enough of it to feed it into the system. It came back registered to a Gaylord Dickenshire, and Tim burst out laughing.

Ziva looked at him in confused surprise. "What is so funny about this?" she asked.

"I know what Tony's cover name is. _Gaylord Dickenshire._"

.Ziva joined him in his laughter. "Wow, that is… a rather unusual name. How did you figure that out?"

"The car is registered to him, and Tony told me one time that he wished he was still my SFA so he could send me undercover with that name. He and Fornell came up with it one night drinking or something. Or maybe it was on stakeout. I'm not sure, but I remember being eternally grateful that Tony wasn't in charge of making up my covers anymore."

"I could see Tony doing that, and I can see Fornell doing so as well. Looks like Tony is the one receiving the practical jokes now," Ziva said with a satisfied smirk.

They pulled off the highway two cars back from Tony and Gibbs. They followed them to the right off the exit, and then pulled into a restaurant parking lot when they saw that their quarry was turning into a motel down the road. They waited in a spot where they could barely see the exit in case the car pulled back out, but fifteen minutes later, it still hadn't. Ziva slowly drove down the road, driving past to see that Tony and Gibbs were going into a room together. Tim was able to see that it was the third door from the end of the building with the office attached. They went two blocks up and stopped at a gas station to use the bathroom and grab something to eat.

When they got back to the car, they sat there for a moment plotting their next move. They decided to try parking across the street from the motel in the lot of an office building until someone made them move. It was still pretty busy, in the lot, and they tried to blend in as best as possible.

Tim pulled out his laptop and started doing his best to hack through firewalls and security settings. He got really quiet, and Ziva turned away from watching the door to notice the intense look at Tim's face.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, raising the binoculars back to her eyes.

"I am trying to get more information on the Giovanni's. If they are going this dark without telling us, there has to be a reason. There's something we're not being told. I don't like that. Tony wouldn't ask us not to get involved, wouldn't tell Abby what he told her, and Gibbs wouldn't leave without at least a warning to me, if there wasn't something much deeper here than what we've been told. It's going to be tough though hacking through there on a satellite card."

Tim's fingers never stopped moving and the clicking was soon soothing Ziva's nerves in a white noise kind of way. She knew that Tim would find what they needed. She had no doubts in him getting whatever information he would ever want to go after, and after finding out that he had taken enough care to set up multiple identities that they could all live off of for the rest of their lives, she wondered what else he had been doing with his time.

"If there is anyone who can get that information, McGee, it is you," she said quietly, glancing over at him.

"We'll see," he said as he continued working his fingers over the keyboard.

"You will. I have a feeling we have all taken that for granted, and I will admit that I have. I think when we do not understand what someone else does, we do not realize what they are capable of. Our identities… it is not something I would have ever thought of, but as soon as you handed me my cards, I knew what you had done for us, and I know it was not easy.

"I think I understand you more now. I imagine that somewhere out there, in another box or safe place, there are also identities for Sarah and your parents, pieced together with just as much care." Tim had stopped typing and looked up at Ziva, noting the sad smile on her face under her binoculars. She lowered the lenses and turned to look at McGee. "I am grateful to know that you care so much."

Tim gave her a small smile, and then went back to work, but Ziva noticed that he didn't lose the slight curve to his lips, and she sighed silently before looking back towards the door. She hadn't been looking long when she saw Tony leaving the motel.

"McGee! Tony is leaving." She reached to turn the ignition of the car, and then stopped. "Should we follow him?"

McGee stopped his tapping, and looked towards the motel. "Gibbs isn't with him?" he asked.

"No, it's only him, and he's pulling out of the lot."

"Did he storm out in anger?" he asked.

"No, it did not appear so."

"Then let's wait. He might just be getting food. If he's left Gibbs there alone, Gibbs is a little more vulnerable without transportation, and as much as I hate to say it, technically, Gibbs is our priority. Besides, if he didn't appear angry, he wouldn't be leaving Gibbs alone for long. Just adds to our theory that they are reconciling," Tim said with arching eyebrows and a smirk.

Ziva smiled broadly and shook her head, keeping her eyes focused on the door across the road.

"I wish we could get close enough to put a GPS tracker on the car. That would solve a lot of our problems. Or even better, _bug_ the car. I have both with me, but getting that close to the car would be hard."

"Do you doubt me, McGee?" Ziva said with a playful smile.

McGee smiled back at her. "That wasn't a challenge, Ziva, but with motel security cameras that I could hack in one minute flat, I don't want our faces anywhere on them in case someone tries to unravel their cover. We would connect their dots a lot faster. We'll find the right moment, but it won't be in that lot."

Ziva nodded at his logic, and resumed her watching. She had to put the binoculars away for a while when people started going home, getting into the cars around them. They couldn't be very inconspicuous about what Tim was doing though. He stretched his fingers, closing the lid when someone went to get into the car next to him, reaching into the back seat and rummaging through his stuff. Ziva knew it was a front so that the people next to them wouldn't pay too much attention to them. Ziva grabbed her bag as well, looking through it to make it look like she was getting settled in, even slipping her seatbelt on.

Ten minutes later and the spaces around them were vacant, the cars gone. Tim pulled his laptop back out and started working again, and Ziva watched the door intently, waiting for Tony's return.

**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**

Tony sent a text to Dale from the car before he left Meghan's explaining in brief his situation with the phone and going undercover. Being a retired agent, Dale was well aware of the nature of the situation, and Tony was glad for the short reply. He was anxious to go back to the hotel and look over plans for the case with Jethro.

He removed the battery to that phone and tucked it in the glove box. He then dialed Jethro on what was now his main phone, and turned over the ignition to the sedan. It took Jethro five rings to answer, and Tony felt a weird dread settling into him. When he finally did, the sound of Jethro's voice settled his nerves, and he exhaled.

"Everything okay?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Took so long to answer."

"My hands were wet, was drying them before I fried this thing."

Tony nodded to him. "Got it. On my way back to the motel. Did you make any headway?"

"I've got some ideas. Are we getting dinner?" Jethro asked.

"Sure. You hungry, _Dick_?" Tony asked with a smirk.

"I'm getting there, _Gaylord_." Jethro's emphasis made Tony rolled his eyes. "What are you feeling like?"

"There's a couple of places near the motel. I'm fine with any of them, so you pick." Tony pulled onto the highway, and told Jethro he had to go since traffic was busy.

"Okay. See you soon," Jethro said softly, making Tony smile.

"You, too, Jethro. Love you."

Gibbs smiled and closed his eyes on the other end of the line, relishing in the way those words made him feel. "Love you, too, Tony."

Tony hung up the phone, and drove towards the motel with a smile on his face. He was wondering how he was going to make the switch from the serious nature of the case, to the Tony he wanted to be while restarting this new version of his relationship. He had become very good at compartmentalizing, but he wasn't sure if that's what he should do now. He was going to need to feed on the good feelings that rejoining with his lover caused in order to bypass what he was going to have to do to their unwilling informants.

He thought back to the Wallingford case. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as the memories flooded him of the night they tortured the creep. All he and Jethro did for the next few days was sleep, wrapped firmly around one another. He prayed it would go easier this time, that this guy would confess early, so they could simply shoot him and get it done with. Tony still swore that when he closed his eyes in a dark tiled room, he could smell their victim's blood, and the thought made him sick. It was why the bathroom light stayed on at all times now, too

He pulled up in front of the door of their motel room wondering if he was still hungry after all. He looked around as inconspicuously as possible as he headed into the room, swiping his key while whistling to let Jethro know it was him. Tony found Jethro standing in the room waiting for him with a smile as he came in. He smiled back as he closed the door behind him. "Did you decide what you wanted to e-" he got out before he was pushed against the door, Jethro's mouth taking his in a hungry kiss.

"Yeah- you," Jethro said between kisses, his hands roaming down Tony's body. Tony's hands roamed right back, feeling for every inch of Jethro's warmth possible. He pulled the polo and tee out of his pants, and then started digging his nails into his lover's back, something that he noticed still had the same effect it did two years prior. Jethro bucked against him growling, their cocks rubbing together through their pants, making Tony moan loudly.

Jethro pulled Tony away from the door, spinning him around so that he fell backwards onto the bed. He pulled his the polo and tee off, then climbed onto Tony, straddling him and working on his clothes, pushing his shirt up as he kissed, licked and nibbled his way up Tony's stomach. His lips found Tony's nipple and began licking and suckling, causing Tony to squirm. He loved when Tony squirmed under him. Something about causing the younger man to writhe beneath him had been a turn on from the beginning that he hadn't expected.

He continued his attack on Tony's other nipple, images of his first night topping Tony going through his head, making his cock impossibly hard.

_He and Tony had spent the past two weeks attached to each other. When there wasn't a case, they were together, hands touching one another, tongues exploring one another, and they'd mastered each other's idea of the perfect blowjob. _

_More and more he'd tried to find the nerve to just flip Tony over and take him like he craved, but things had been going so incredibly, and he didn't want to hurt him in any way, and possibly cause a rift. After those two weeks of ecstasy though, he couldn't take it anymore. He'd let Tony show him everything possible, and he'd loved every bit of it, but he wanted more. He knew Tony did, too. He was sure of it after Tony had shown him the night before how to stretch himself out. He figured that was Tony's way of saying _he'd_ like to be stretched. _

_They'd gone out to dinner after work, and were making their way back to the house. They'd actually braved driving in together a few times already, and were wondering if they would have to tell the team about things soon. The conversation about it at dinner had made Jethro's thoughts run together, and it brought up emotions in him he wasn't sure he knew what to do with. Once they were behind closed doors though, that had worked itself out. _

_He took Tony by the hand, and led him upstairs to the bedroom. This was usually the part over the past two weeks where Jethro turned everything over to Tony, letting go and letting Tony lead, but tonight, he needed the control. He pulled Tony towards him, kissing him thoroughly, feeling Tony smile into the kiss as he backed down, letting Jethro dominate his mouth. That was enough to prove that Tony wanted it too, and he ran with it._

_Jethro unbuttoned Tony's shirt slowly, agonizingly, and let it slip down his shoulders before running his hands up his chest, feeling his fingers slide through the mess of hair there. His arms came around Tony's shoulders and kissed him hard again, pulling slightly on Tony's hair, making him moan. Jethro pulled out of the kiss with a smirk, and pulled his own shirt off. There was soon a pile of shirts, belts, pants, phones and badges on the floor, and Jethro had Tony on his back on the bed. _

_He took his time exploring every inch of Tony with his mouth, and when he got to Tony's nipples, he felt Tony writhe underneath him, arching up against him, and the high pitched keening that filled the air only made Jethro want to torture the nipples further with teeth. _

_Tony moaned and reached to grab Jethro's hair, and Jethro moved back up to Tony's mouth, kissing him hard as his fingertips tweaked a nipple mercilessly and Tony squirmed harder under him. He rested his entire weight on Tony and twisted the nipple even more, and Tony's struggle was even more stifled and intense, making Jethro rock hard. _

_He bent and whispered in Tony's ear, "Who do you belong to, Tony?"_

"_Fuck!" Tony whispered, throwing his head back. "You! Just you, Jethro."_

"_That's right," Jethro said as he began thrusting his dick against Tony's. _

_Any hint of hesitation left him, and he reached for the lube on the nightstand, still there from the day before. He kissed Tony hard as he absentmindedly squirted some of the clear liquid over his fingers, not caring that it was dripping onto the pillow next to Tony's head. While his tongue invaded Tony's mouth, his fingers reached to graze Tony's entrance, teasing it with the pads of his slick digits. He earned a satisfying groan from Tony, and he smirked into the kiss as he began poking just the tiniest bit of his fingertip into him. _

_He kissed his way down Tony's jaw, his neck and shoulder, then down his torso, stopping to suck on his nipples again, all the while still tracing his finger around the ring of muscle he was about to go to work on loosening. He kissed around Tony's cock, refusing to do anything but breathe on it, holding Tony's hips to the bed easily as he tried to thrust up towards Jethro's mouth. The sweet sounds of need leaving the man underneath him turned him on in ways he'd never imagined they could, and he felt like every inch of his skin was on fire. _

_Jethro took Tony's left leg and lifted it up, angling it wider. Tony lifted his other leg to match, and grabbed behind his knees to help hold them in place while Jethro chewed his bottom lip and investigated what it would take to loosen Tony's entrance for him. He watched as his fingertip was sucked into the ring of muscle, puckering around it, glistening with lube. He'd never really thought of an asshole as a beautiful thing, but knowing that pretty soon, his cock would be buried in it, and the way it shone with the shiny liquid, made him find it mesmerizing. _

_He heard a sound come out of Tony he'd never heard anybody make as he slipped into the younger man slowly, taking his time with his thick fingers. Tony shuddered and sighed, and Jethro bent forward to give his balls a long, fondling lick. Tony gasped in surprise, and Jethro was almost afraid Tony would let go of his legs, letting them crash down on him, but he held his position. He continued playing with Tony's balls in his mouth as his finger worked itself in and out of the tight, hot ass. The smoothness of the inner walls is what surprised him the most. It felt so different from the any other part of Tony, and it was like buttered silk. _

_He finally added a second finger, and stopped torturing Tony's balls with pleasure. _

"_Fuck, Jethro! God, that feels so good!" Tony arched his back, pushing the fingers deeper in him. _

_Tony had instructed Jethro on how to find his prostate, and Jethro's fingers went on the search. He knew when he had found it because Tony's body jolted, his cock twitching hard. _

"_That's it! Oh, hell yeah, that's it!" Tony groaned. Jethro continued fingering him, running his digits over Tony's prostate a few more times, and scissoring the fingers apart so that he gradually stretched him. When the ring of muscle seemed to be much softer and exposed than before, he slipped a third finger in that made Tony yelp. Jethro stopped for a minute, wondering if he was hurting Tony, but Tony began writhing on the bed again, and forming sounds that Jethro was sure were supposed to be words. _

_He only played with Tony's ass for another couple of minutes before he knelt up and slicked his cock. He looked down at Tony's lust-drunk eyes and teased his hole with the leaking head of his cock. He waited for the words to form, taunting Tony with caresses of his dick against his hole, never entering him. Finally, Tony's voice rose, demanding and clear. _

"_Damn it, Jethro! Fuck me! Please!"_

"_Thought you'd never ask," Jethro said, bending over Tony's bent knees to kiss him as he slowly began to push his cock into the warm, welcoming chamber. At first, he wondered if he was going to be able to. It was so tight, and it made him wonder if he'd stretched Tony enough. He finally pushed just hard enough for his head to slip past the rim, and he gasped at how tightly Tony constricted around him. He stilled, trying not to blow his load right then, and he felt Tony tense below him and saw the beautifully agonizing look on Tony's face. _

_Tony slowly shifted below him, giving just a slight motion that caused Jethro's dick to slip further into him. They both groaned. _

"_Oh, hell, Tony. You're so tight. Shit… so tight. So good…" he slowly slid forward, and inch by inch, he filled Tony until his balls rested against Tony's ass. He pulled Tony's legs so that Tony's tailbone was rising up off the bed, and then pushed a little deeper as he felt Tony opening up to him. _

_Tony's mouth opened in an "O" shape, and his eyes fell closed at how perfect the sensation was. He had never felt so full, so wanted, so possessed as he did in that moment. He was Jethro's now, and no one else would ever have him again. _

_Jethro slowly pulled back, and then pushed into him. He kept the slow, fluid movements going for a long time, feeling that soft, slick wall of Tony's ass sweep over his tender cock with every thrust. He'd never felt anything like it. He couldn't remember ever wanting to take a woman this way, and something about the way Tony's tight, muscular ass grabbed his cock and then let it go with each pass, made him think no woman would ever be able to give him this kind of pleasure._

_Tony's hips started thrusting up against him, and he heard Tony's voice say something that he was too lost in euphoria to understand, but his body sped up anyway, knowing instinctively what was needed. He pushed and pulled, thrust and grabbed, and in another couple of minutes, he grabbed Tony's cock, making Tony cry out with only a couple of strokes as he came. Jethro wasn't prepared for the vice-like grab of Tony's ass when he orgasmed, and the constriction made him gasp and moan. He started to pull out, and it squeezed the entire shaft, making him come before he could get the head past the ring of muscle. _

"_Yes! Come inside me, Jethro! Fuck yes!" Tony moaned, arching his hips as he felt Jethro's first squirt of warmth filing him. That turned Jethro on even more and he pushed in again, then pulled out, letting the ring of muscle milk him dry, filling his lover's ass with his cum. _

The motel bed squeaked underneath them as Jethro fucked Tony faster and faster. Tony pulled his legs up to take as much as possible, and they both moaned and grunted loudly, adding to the cacophony of squeaking bed and pounding headboard.

"Who do you belong to, Tony? Who do you belong to?"

"Just you, Jethro! My God! Just you!" Tony yelled as he came, squirting cum all over his stomach and his fist.

Jethro jerked to a stop, shuddered hard and filled Tony with his release, pulling halfway out to run his fingers up and down half of his shaft, milking himself into his lover. He balanced himself a moment so he didn't fall onto Tony, waiting for the ability to breathe again. When he opened his eyes, he looked down into Tony's shining green ones, half opened as he watched Jethro. He pulled out, feeling a trail of cum follow him as he twisted to fall next to Tony on the bed. His hand reached out and ran his fingers down the side of Tony's face.

"I love you, Tony," he said after a long minute of post-orgasm gazing.

"I love you, too, Jethro. Always will." They leaned in to share a deep long kiss, and a few minutes later, they'd both dozed off.

-NCIS-*-NCIS-*-NCIS—

Ziva alerted Tim of Tony's return, and noted that he was coming back empty-handed. They discussed the possibility of Tony going out to get information, but then Tim realized that Tony had been gone for a little under two hours. He paused at his attempt to breach the FBI's most inner firewalls and files, and pulled up Tony's phone records he had poached earlier. He saw three numbers had been dialed. One he recognized right away as Abby's, and when he searched the other two numbers, he saw that one was Fornell's and one was to Dr. Feldman.

"I think he made time to go see his psychologist," Tim said almost quizzically. "I've got to say, two years ago, I never thought Tony would ever consider seeing a psychologist, none the less in the middle of an undercover op. He seemed adamantly against it, even after the Wallingford case, but now, it doesn't really surprise me."

Ziva laughed once, sardonically.

"What?" Tim asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Torturing and taking a human life was not enough to make him reach out for help, but Gibbs leaves him and he finally does. It is just somewhat strange to me how this has come to be between them."

"True, but he wasn't going to see Dr. Feldman until Fornell threatened his job, so I think it was more that than Gibbs."

"How he dealt with life without Gibbs was what put him in the position for the ultimatum. It makes one consider if falling in love is worth it," she said quietly.

"I don't know. I think with the right person, it could be."

"Have you ever been in love, McGee? Real love?" Ziva asked, unsure of why she felt the need to.

"I _was_ really in love with Abby. I still love her, but after being friend-zoned for so long, that love has changed, and no, I'm no longer in love with her."

Ziva finally looked over at McGee as his fingers stilled over his keys again in the now dark car.

"You have never been in love with anyone else?" she asked. Tim merely shook his head "no".

"I think I'm in, Ziva, but this doesn't look right. What the hell is _"black level clearance"_?" he asked, fingers flying again as he went to copy things to his hard drive before he could get expelled. "What the-" he mumbled again as Ziva moved into his space to look over his shoulder. "Oh, God. What has Tony gotten himself into?"

"I do not like the sound of that McGee. What is going on?" Ziva said with a slight hint of frantic to her voice that Tim wasn't used to hearing.

"This isn't good, Ziva. Hold on a minute for me. I need to get as much of this as possible before they find me in here, and then get the hell out! Not good! Noooooot good!" Tim said as his thumb tapped on the edge of the keyboard while the loading bar moved across his screen. "I hate this slow civilian satellite access! Not used to it taking so long." Another long minute went by while they both held their breaths, and Tim started typing again as he worked his way back out of the system, setting his own misdirects in place in case someone tried to find out how he wormed his way in. When he was finally done, he unplugged his satellite card and tucked it into the gap of the door handle. He brought up the files and blew them up so Ziva could read them over his shoulder.

"Okay, so… black level security clearance appears to be above "Top Secret"," Tim said as he read. "And it appears that there's not a lot of people on that list. About three hundred. There's a pretty wide mix of agencies involved. CIA, FBI, Homeland, NCI- who has it as NCIS?" Tim asked himself as Ziva looked back at the screen from where she'd just glanced at the motel room door. "Vance and Gibbs. Somehow, that's not a huge shocker." He looked over at Ziva who had gone back to looking at the door, and saw her shrug. "Fornell and Tony are on here, as well as Brandonburg and Thomas, the agents we met the other night."

"That would seem to be how we got to be in this situation, so it does make sense," Ziva said, sipping from her water with the binoculars to her eyes.

"But Tony was made Black Level the day he started with the Bureau, so Fornell had that in mind when he poached him."

"If I was this… _Black Level_," she said with a wave of her hand, "and did not tell you, would you not be upset? And if you were Black Level, and I found out later that you had been this whole time and did not let me know, I would definitely not trust you. Fornell made it very clear when he asked Tony to come work with him that he was looking for a partner he could trust, and that Tony was not only trustworthy, but had the clearance and the skills necessary to do what he was looking for." Ziva's eyes never left the door of the motel room, and McGee shrugged in agreement.

He looked over the list and saw multiple people whose name he recognized, but none that he knew well personally. He considered Ziva's words, and thought that he should be mad at Gibbs for not sharing this information with him, but he knew that he wouldn't have been able to, and he began to wonder if Gibbs had gotten to that level before being with NCIS considering how many military personnel were on the list. There was no date next to Gibbs' name like there was with Vance and Tony, and he realized there was no date next to Fornell's name either. He began to wonder if they were part of the inception, and he itched inside to find out. He had more important things to worry about at the moment though.

"Listen to this," he directed to Ziva in a tone with slightly more command than she was used to hearing from him. It made her put the binoculars down, and turn to him.

"Tony and Fornell have been working on the Giovanni case for about a year now. They'd had a few run-ins with the mob in the past, and then it all hit the fan last year when an agent was killed. Tony and Fornell were assigned the case because of their previous encounters, and the idea that if someone was going to have to go undercover, Tony would physically fit the bill. I imagine knowing some Italian doesn't hurt either, but this is where things go awry. They find out it's not the mob don they need to worry about. Antoinelli Giovanni is your typical mob boss, contract killings assumed and all, but his _son_, Frankie Giovanni, is who they are really after. Frankie has his own thing going on. He's working with terrorists- any and all terrorists. He wants to bring down the government, and let the mob families rise up and control the country. His dad, apparently, is supportive of this. Since he's next in line when Antoinelli dies, he stands to gain control, and his dad is allowing what would typically be Frankie's responsibilities to be doled out so that Frankie can focus all of his energy into taking the government down. Word on the street is that his dad is proud of him, considering his son the Mafia Phoenix, bringing the government reign to an end so that the Giovanni's can rise back into power where they believe they belong.

"Frankie is teaming up with whoever will try to bring down the government with him, and he doesn't have any scruples about who he assists. He plans on weakening the government's hold in the cities he's after: DC, New York and Philly. I guess he's still pissed about everything in Philly. He was in charge in that area for the family before the big bust in 2013."

"It is like when you turn on the lights, and all of the roaches run and hide. That case merely scattered the people involved," Ziva said.

"Yeah, and a huge portion of them transplanted right in our own back yard. No wonder the guy is so hellbent on this mission. That is why he killed off so much of our Lieutenant's family. This isn't just about getting their hands on some weapons for some terrorist organization- they _are_ the terrorist organization. Any piece of information that someone might have in regards to this is going to die. Anyone who knows anything about their plans to bring down the government, will be killed to protect their secret."

"Unless we get to them first," Ziva said with a cold edge to her voice. Tim's eyes met hers in the streetlight, and he nodded.

"Gibbs and Tony _need_ to succeed in this mission, Ziva."

"And we're going to make sure they do," she said with conviction.

"Damn right we are," Tim said under his breath as he dove back into the research.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Tony woke up with Jethro's fingers running through his hair. He smiled as if he felt it for the first time. He loved that feeling. It accompanied a security that Jethro naturally instilled in him, especially after Jethro took charge during sex. He looked up into his eyes, and he saw the beauty of a happy man where he had just very recently seen a tortured soul.

"I know we're moving towards something new, but I have to say that I missed this," Tony whispered.

"Me, too. This can definitely be a part of our something new," Jethro said with a smile that made Tony grin from ear to ear, and snuggle back into him.

A low gurgling noise rumbled through the room, and Tony chuckled. "Guess you're hungry after all," he jested.

"Yeah, I kinda am. Been a long day, and I forgot to eat this morning."

"And here I thought I'd broken you of that," Tony said with a playful sigh.

"Old habits die hard, what can I say?"

"Guess we should go find some dinner."

"How about I run out and grab us something, and you can start researching locations we can take this guy when we get ahold of him?" Jethro asked.

"I already know where we can take him. Got that covered. All we need is to get him into the car, and make it there in one piece," Tony said casually before stifling a yawn.

"Oh."

Tony looked up at Jethro as he sat up. "You okay?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah, it's just…" Jethro's voice trailed off.

"Weird?" Tony asked gently.

"Uncomfortable actually," Jethro said, unable to meet Tony's eyes. Tony nodded, understanding that this had to be difficult to get used to for Jethro, considering Tony had been at his beck and call professionally for over a decade. He had to imagine that following his lead was nerve-wrecking for a man who is used to being in control of everything around him, but he got the feeling there was more to it than that. Not having that kind of control over _him_ specifically seemed to be a more accurate description, but it still didn't quite hit the bullseye. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want Jethro to feel this way, but it wasn't going to change. There was a lot of information about this case that Tony couldn't even begin to explain until the time came for Jethro to know it, and he was going to have to trust Tony to guide him.

"Do you trust me, Jethro?" Tony asked quietly, and Jethro brought his eyes to look straight up into Tony's.

"With my life." Tony was relieved to see the honesty in Jethro's eyes as he spoke.

"Then take a deep breath, and let go. I will tell you everything you need to know as you need to know it, and I won't lead you into anything unprepared. There's just too much to start at the beginning with. Play this one loose, and trust me."

Jethro took a deep breath and let out a wavering sigh, his eyes looking anxious as he reached out for Tony's hand, giving him a small nod. "You know that it's not you, right?" he asked quietly.

Tony shook his head side to side. "Part of it is."

Jethro cocked his head as he tried to get a read on Tony.

"Jethro, you've been in charge of me ninety percent of the time that we've known one another, and not just in the field. Before our relationship began, you knew that I would do just about anything you told me to. You never abused that, and I trusted, and _still_ trust you, but things are different now. We're going to have to move past this hurdle eventually. I'm not your responsibility on this case, but you _are_ mine."

Jethro looked down to where his hand was in Tony's, and Tony was squeezing his fingers gently. He felt the strength and the stability in the grasp, and he knew that this Tony was different. He was stronger, more capable, or at least more open with his talents, and he was confident in his abilities. He'd always wanted that for Tony, and he suddenly wondered how much his actions had been a part of keeping him from that.

He swallowed hard. _He's not _my_ Tony anymore, _he realized. A million thoughts went through his head, but he tried to smile, and squeezed Tony's hand in reassurance.

"I'll try to let go," he said, his voice choked.

"Thank you," Tony said quietly, knowing something had just changed in Jethro's eyes.

"I think I'll go for a walk, and grab some dinner from that place we passed a couple of blocks down. Anything particular you're in the mood for?" he asked.

"A huge meal. I have a feeling we'll need it while we can get it. Maybe some potato skins if they have 'em." Tony smiled encouragingly at Jethro, knowing he'd share the potato skins. He saw that Jethro's smile didn't reach his eyes, and his stomach dropped. Jethro leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, and Tony kissed him back.

"I'll grab a quick shower, and then head out."

Tony nodded and watched as Jethro slid out of bed and moved towards the small motel bathroom. He stared at the closed door for the next ten minutes as he got his thoughts together. Something had just changed in Jethro that he really didn't like. A bit of the light had gone out of his eyes, and it scared him. He started asking himself what he had done, and then he realized that if there was anything that was going to be hard for them to get past, it was going to be the fact that Jethro wasn't in charge anymore.

Tony thought about Fornell's question in regards to going back to NCIS, and Tony realized that no matter how much he loved his old team, he didn't _want_ to be under Jethro again. He was finally his equal, and if they couldn't handle that, maybe they didn't need to be in a relationship after all.

*ncis*ncis*ncis*ncis*

Director Vance was standing in Abby's lab, looking at her as she tried to explain what had happened that morning before two of his agents disappeared on him.

"I had heard from Tony this morning, and he told me that he was leaving on an undercover op, and that he needed me to watch his apartment for him, and feed Kate. That's his goldfish, he named her after Kate, you know, Agent Todd, who-"

"_Ms. Scuito_," he said with a warning tone, steering her back to the important part of the conversation as she twisted her fingers together, standing up on tiptoes, and then back down so that her toes were pointed together as her heels turned out.

"Right. Tony… he made it sound so final, like he was saying goodbye forever, and then McGee told me that Gibbs hadn't come in, and I got worried, and he told me that if Gibbs and Tony had gone like, really, _really_, undercover, he and Ziva would make sure they had back up."

"Are you saying that you think they have gone dark with Gibbs, or that Gibbs is unaware of their intervention?"

"If I were them, with how grumpy Gibbs has been, I'd stay back a while before letting him know they're there," Abby said with her eyes wide.

Vance nodded his agreement to that. "Agent McGee signed out a car today. Track it for me."

Abby turned around immediately and started looking in the e-log for the car's GPS tracking information, and then brought up the data. "That's weird," she said. "It's outside of Ziva's apartment."

"Track Ziva's car for me."

Abby looked up at the Director with a quirked eyebrow. She grabbed the remote from the counter and closed the lockdown door to the lab. The fact that the cars belonging to the three main investigative teams had been tagged wasn't common knowledge, even to the agents themselves. Only she, McGee and the Director were aware.

"Guess that was pointless, it's still in the garage." Her fingers passed over a few more keys. "Gibbs' car is at the Hoover building, and McGee's car is here." She felt a little better knowing for sure that Gibbs was with Tony, but she realized she was getting dangerously close to breaking her promise to Tony. She took a deep breath, afraid of what the outcome of her actions was going to be, but she swallowed hard and thought to herself, _Channel your inner-Gibbs, Abby. You can do this!_

"Sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I've been directed not to investigate this case at all by every person involved." It was a little lie, but one she knew Gibbs would back her up on. "The case material is apparently highly sensitive, and they are afraid of any searches ran tipping off the bad guys. Please don't ask me to do anything further. I don't want to get them hurt."

Vance raised an eyebrow at her, but nodded slowly. "If you are contacted by any of them, I need to know that Agents McGee and David are safe. They should have in no way started getting involved with this investigation." That made Abby's stomach flip even harder.

"I'm sure McGee is only doing what he feels he needs to do to protect the team, sir. Tony never would have let Gibbs run off on his own without following him. You can't expect McGee not to do the same now that he's trying so hard to fill the Senior Field Agent position. He's seen it happen before, and we all know how it's turned out. And he couldn't leave Ziva behind. They're inseparable these days. They've had to be, considering they're all each other really has at this point."

Abby clamped her mouth shut before she could say anything else incriminating about her favorite team. She watched the expression change on Vance's face, and she knew she'd said something that made him think, and she wasn't sure she liked the look. Her boss almost looked scolded, but she couldn't figure out what she'd said to make him feel that way. She felt even more confused when the man simply nodded and left her alone in the lab without another word. _What the hell is going on around here?!_ She asked herself before turning to look at the data on the screen showing where the MCRT's cars were. "Come back to me soon, guys," she said quietly to herself as she shut down the tracing program. "Soon and safe."

NCIS—NCIS—NCIS—NCIS—NCIS

Tony had slipped into the shower after Jethro, and came out to find the older man had left to get dinner without saying goodbye. They'd shared an embrace and a kiss before Tony had switched places with him in the bathroom, but Tony felt the walls up on the other side of it. He sighed, and slipped into his sweats and a t-shirt before sitting down with the laptop to go over some things.

He ran his hand through his hair as he tried to concentrate. He had brought up the location on a map of where they would be heading, and charted the best course from their perp's apartment to the warehouse they'd use to find their answers. It was off the beaten path, and only really had traffic on the weekends.

He wrote the route down, and sent it to both his phone and Jethro's, and then brought up the research that Jethro had been doing to become acquainted with it. He hadn't realized he'd stopped reading over it until his phone chimed. He looked down to see a text from Jethro saying it was going to be a few more minutes, and then he'd be walking back. He sat the phone back down after returning a simple "Okay", and he stared at the wall.

_Can we get past it? I can't work under him again. I'm finally… whole, or at least I would be if we can make this work. I'd have my friends, my job, and the love of my life. _He sighed deeply, and rested his head on his folded hands as his eyes shut. _He's going to have to get over it, but I don't know what specifically made him go cold on me. He's holding something back, and I can't get a read on it, and I've always been able to read him, so why can't I now? Are we too different? Have we changed too much? Was his level of control in our relationship always so important to him that it's a make-it or break-it quality?_

He stared back at the wall again as he remembered snippets of the six months they were together.

_He always let me have so much control, turning it over, and it was incredible for us both. Not just sexually, but emotionally. On the anniversary of Shannon and Kelly's death, he let me hold him while he simply fell asleep on me… he'd tried so hard to be alone, but then when I was there, he really seemed to want me there. He seemed relieved to have someone to turn it all over to. Now, I simply know more about a case we're both involved with, and he can't handle it? Maybe it's just the case, maybe it's just work. We can't work together, but we can still _live_ together, _love_ together. Right?_

He was startled out of his thoughts when Jethro knocked out a rhythm against the door before coming in. Tony had his hand on his gun on the desk just in case, but he didn't need it. He saw the soft smile on the man coming into the room, and he relaxed a bit. _Maybe he just needed some time to get his thoughts together,_ he thought hopefully.

"Whatcha bring me?" he asked, getting up to help Jethro sort out the food.

"Potato skins, some medium specialty burger, mac and cheese, onion rings, and for the hell of it, a side salad. With how last time went, I figured we'd better get something healthy in us along with this other crap."

Tony nodded in approval. "Ducky would be proud! Now, all I need is a fork." Jethro pulled a couple of plastic forks and napkins from the take out bag, and they pulled the armchair towards the desk. They ate as they went over the information on where their soon-to-be 'victim' lived, and where they would be taking him.

"I have my kit in the car. There's some hunting knives, filleting knives, two icepicks…" Jethro watched as Tony shuddered and closed his eyes. When they opened again, Jethro knew he was steeling himself against the memories of what he'd done to Wallingford with the icepick. Hell, the thought of it had Jethro swallowing hard to keep his food down. "I have something else though that we didn't have last time. Hopefully it will make it easier on all of us."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

"After Wallingford, Ducky helped me track down vials of three ingredients that when mixed become a type of truth serum." Jethro saw the excitement on Tony's face, and he was quick to be honest about the blend. "It's not as strong or clear as pentathol, but it relaxes a person and makes them open up more. If we get to the point that we need someone to calm down, we can inject him or her with this mixture, and it should help as well as loosen their tongue."

"What is it?" Tony asked, curious.

"It's scopolamine, oxycodone and ephedrine."

Tony nodded, familiar with the combination after the research on truth serums he had done when returning from Somalia. "That's a dangerous combination to play with if you're not familiar with it. It could kill them before we ever get the information out of them, or simply make them pretty much impervious to any pain inflicted on them. Hell, if it's enough to keep a pregnant woman from feeling childbirth, I doubt they'll feel a slice with a fish gutter."

"True, which is why we'd have to make sure we really want to use it before we do. Stubborn cases. I figure we can tell them we're going to give them something for the pain if they talk, make a show out of it. Or like I said, if it would be easier to subdue someone, we have the means. I figure if things get really bad, we can pump some more of the ephedrine into them and increase the paranoia"

"Did Ducky tell you how much would be needed to OD?" Tony asked, already starting to pull up the information on his laptop.

Jethro nodded. "It's all written on each bottle."

"Good," Tony said, bringing up more detailed information on each of the drugs they were working with just in case. He sent the information to his and Jethro's phones as well. He remembered some of it, like the scopolamine and the oxycodone would both slow the heart down tremendously, which is why the ephedrine was given with it. It sped up the heart just enough to keep the body going but in a slow, sleepy state that kept the nervous system from responding quickly enough to know to lie. There were reasons the medication wasn't used to extract the truth anymore. It made the person under its influence ramble, and sometimes the things said were grandiose fantasies of the person that was drugged.

"There's something else in there, too," Jethro said quietly. "Cyanide tablets."

Tony stopped, and looked at Jethro with an assessing eye. "For them, or us?" he asked, a little more accusation in his voice than he meant. Jethro chuckled though.

"Them. We've gotten out of plenty of situations we shouldn't have in the past, and we'll probably get out of even more in this case. The tablets are easy to force someone to take though, and if we need to dispose of a body silently, we can."

Tony nodded his approval. "You are talentedly fiendish, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and I'm glad I'm on your side."

"Mike once told me that both us and the criminals have the same information, and we understand each other in ways no one else does. We both will understand crime, why it's committed, and how to get away with it. The race is to see who acts on which piece of knowledge first. That's why there are turncoat hackers brought into the cyber divisions, and why cops turn so easily undercover. Two sides of the same coin. People who have gotten away with money laundering for years make deals to teach their methods to the ICE agents in exchange for safer prison transfers, and even house arrest with constant surveillance." Gibbs' tone dropped until he was speaking slowly, and almost sadly.

"Being a sniper, I was trained to take lives. I've spent the past twenty-something years putting people in prison for taking lives. And now, we'll take lives again in order to prevent even more lives from being taken. It's a vicious circle. Honestly, I'm not sure how much I have left in me to commit to it. I think…" Jethro shook his head, and Tony watched him with sad, knowing eyes. He finally understood how tired Jethro really was.

"You're thinking about leaving the agency." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

A slow, heavy nod answered him. Jethro cleared his throat.

"Things weren't the same when you left. I had lost a very important component to why I do this. I hadn't realized how much your passion had kept me going. I had wanted to be more because I knew my agents needed for me to be more. I had wanted to be more because my country needs me to be more. The families of our victims need us to be more. Ever since this summer though, I've realized that it isn't about not having you there, and not having the trust and respect of Ziva and McGee. I'm tired, Tony, and the exhaustion is overcoming the passion, wiping out the drive. I kept thinking that if I had you there, I'd get it back, but when I admitted to myself that wasn't going to happen this summer, I started having to ask myself the big questions.

"After Wallingford… well… I never thought I'd be back in that position again, and now here I am." Jethro sighed heavily. "I'd like to live life, not take any more of it. I didn't think I could ever deserve that again, and yet here you are, two feet from me, and I want more than anything to just… live. I've been the job for so long, that I don't know if I even know _how_ to live a normal life, but I think I wanna try."

Tony started understanding the odd look in Jethro's eyes earlier now. There _was_ more there than what he was seeing, but it really didn't have to do with him. Yeah, a part of it did, but really, Jethro was struggling with why he was doing this at all.

"You know that no matter what you decide to do, I'll support you one-hundred percent. Just let me know what you need from me. If you want to talk about it, or just need time to think, I get it."

Jethro nodded, and fought himself on whether or not to say the next thing, but he knew he needed to. "Vance is going to ask you to come back to the team."

Tony nodded slowly, adding that to the way Ziva and Tim had been acting the day before. "I don't think I can do that, Jethro."

"If I leave, I don't know who is going to take care of Ziva and McGee."

"Not to sound like an insensitive prick, or start a fight, but from the way things sound, they're already taking care of themselves." Tony grit his teeth against the possible backlash.

Jethro cringed the slightest bit. "I know," he said. "They really do mean a lot to me though, and I would hate to see them with someone that didn't appreciate them. I may be the biggest bastard in the world, but I hope they both know that I respect and care about them."

"That much, they do," Tony reassured him.

"Thanks, Tony."

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" Tony corrected. "That's _Gaylord_. I don't know who this Tony is you're talking about."

Jethro chuckled. He watched the mischief dance in Tony's eyes, and it brought his own soul to life. _That_ was his Tony, and he knew that he wanted Tony to be his husband even more than his agent. He watched the moment through a mental magnifying glass, and he realized that no matter how distant "work Tony" was from him now, this Tony he was witnessing would always be his, and it was the Tony he would choose if he only got one of them. Besides, eventually, there would be no work, and this side of them was much more important.

"I don't think I'm going to get used to Gaylord. We might have to sneak into 512 for something different."

"No, because then McGee would know how to find us, and he would. I bet he's already checked the box to make sure we haven't had to access it."

Jethro nodded, seeing the logic in that. "What can we shorten Gaylord to, then?"

Tony pulled the stack of cards out of his wallet next to him on the desk. "I think I saw a middle initial on one of these," he said as he flipped through them. "Oh! Here we go. My middle name is Theodore. My bank card says so. I think I'm going to go by Ted."

"I think I could work with Ted."

"And I think I'll stick with Richard or Rich for you. You might get called Dick every once in a while, but that would happen even if we weren't on an op." Tony flashed him a smile, and was happy to see Jethro smiling back. "I think we really need to start addressing each other by these names only. It's going to take a while to get used to it this time, and with our own personal issues on the brain, we're probably going to have a hard time with it all."

"Got it, Ted."

"Sounds like a plan, Rich. Let's get some sleep while we can. I figure we'll check out at about 0400, go snag some cinderblocks, then find us a perp."

"Are you setting the alarm on your phone, or should I set the clock next to the bed?"

"I'll set both of our phones."

Tony worked on their phones, then plugged them in. He climbed in on one side of the bed after slipping out of his shirt and leaving his pants on. Jethro stepped into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he emerged in just his boxers and a tee before slipping under the covers in the dark room. Tony turned to him as he got comfortable, and they snuggled together. Tony could hear the beat of Jethro's heart underneath his head, and the sound soon lulled him to sleep.

Jethro sat up for another half an hour, enjoying the feeling of Tony against him, and wondering how much longer he should give the agency after this case. He knew he could up and retire next week if he wanted to, but he'd hate to leave that abruptly. He decided he'd give it another six months to a year, prove that he was back on his game, and go out with his head held high. He had Tony by his side now, so he believed he could do anything.


	12. Chapter 12

_Yes, a second chapter tonight! I was going to wait and post it tomorrow, but hey, I'm impatient :D Thanks for all of the love you've been showing! _

_And a note: La Cosa Nostra is what the Sicilian Mafia originally called themselves. It translates to, 'The Us Thing' or 'Our Thing', and their modern day US counterpart is referred to at times as the LCN. _

Chapter Twelve

Ziva was asleep in the car next to Tim as he watched the door of the motel room. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of what Tony and Gibbs were doing. He was angry at Gibbs for not telling him, no matter how much he understood it was probably to keep them safe. He kept wondering what he would be doing at that moment in some alternate universe where Tony and Gibbs had never split up and turned their worlds upside down.

The two would probably be married by now, or at least living together, and they'd probably be sitting in Gibbs' basement sanding or something. He considered that he would probably be at home, writing, actually _working_ on his next novel instead of getting around to tinkering with the outline once a month. He imagined Ziva would be training or holding a yoga class, maybe even on a date. Instead, they were dragged into the one case Fornell could have ever won from Gibbs.

He smirked, and shook his head to himself at the thought. _Who am I kidding?_ He asked himself. _We'd still be right here, stuck in the thick of things, only we'd be a little blinder without Tony's background on the case. We may have been aware of each other's presence instead of sneaking around like this, or I may even be safely behind my desk doing something productive that could bring this little piece of the mafia down, but we'd still be involved. _

He and Ziva had watched Gibbs leave the motel room to go get dinner, and watched him return. Ziva had gotten out of the car, and snuck around the bushes with her binoculars to make sure that's what he was doing. They chose that time to leave the lot, go down the road to a different gas station to use the restroom and stretch, and then found a different spot to park where they would be able to see the door of the hotel room.

Tim had taken the spot behind the wheel at that point so Ziva could get some sleep. He was too keyed up, so he sat there with his gaze on the door until he saw the lights go out in the room. He relaxed a little and watched the cars coming in and out of the lot, wishing he could text Abby to keep him occupied. He wasn't Tim though, he was Tom, and that meant that he couldn't reach out to her, or do anything to leave a tech trace like pull up his cloud and work on his book outline. He couldn't even make notes in his notebook, because if someone found it, he didn't want it linked in any way to what he was pretty sure Tony and Gibbs were planning on doing.

He contemplated the last physical interrogation that the duo had taken on. It had been beyond personal last time- the bastard had killed Dorneget.

There was no mercy shown, and though Ziva had felt the need to console him earlier, his distress was only because of the results the torturing had had on Gibbs and Tony. When he and Ziva went in to assist Ducky and Palmer in removing as much the man as possible, he had watched Ziva swallow hard, and he was thoroughly disturbed himself, but a little piece of him had wished he would have at least gotten to give their dead man a hearty kick to the face.

Thinking back, he wasn't sure how they'd gotten away with it. It had to be something above them, some kind of string pulled, or more like a rope. He guessed it didn't really matter when the end result was the release of dozens of people caged like animals on the black market, lined up for the picking.

He tried not to think about what Dorneget had been through before they'd found him. He knew that Gibbs blamed himself for not taking Dorney on his own team when he'd had the chance, planting him with Balboa's instead. And he also knew that Dorney had taken the undercover case as a chance to prove himself to colleagues who didn't believe in him; colleagues across all teams, but especially the one he had landed on.

Thing was, Gibbs _did_ believe he could become something, he just had kept Dorneget off the team for fear of him learning about his secret relationship with Tony, and he knew the man had no tact or secret keeping ability.

Tim would always remember when Dorney had found out about it anyway, and Gibbs had pulled him aside to admit why he was with Balboa and not them. Tony, Abby, Tim and Dorney had been getting together for gaming nights every third Friday of the month to unwind from crazy weeks, but they'd forgotten what week it was, and were having a team movie night at Tony's place instead. When Dorney walked in on the entire team watching a movie, Tony sitting on the floor against the couch between Gibbs' legs, his back to Gibbs' chest, and Gibbs' head resting on Tony's shoulder, it was pretty obvious that they were together.

It had temporarily killed the movie's adrenaline buzz, but after the explanation and talk Gibbs had with Dorney in the hall, they hit play, and Dorney snuggled in on the couch next to Abby, eating popcorn from the bowl in Tim's lap, and blended right in with their family time. Tim noticed from then on out that Dorney was more confident, and it was only a month later that his friend had taken the assignment to infiltrate what they thought was a ring of people running the black market trafficking. It ended up being two brothers by the last name of Wallingford, and when Balboa broke his hip in a car accident, the case landed in Gibbs' lap.

Gibbs had immediately tried to make contact with Dorneget, and when he couldn't, all hell broke loose. They had tracked him down, but it was too late. From that moment on, the team's mission was to find the person responsible, and take them down.

After they did, and Tony and Gibbs had tortured Aaron Wallingford to find out where his victims were being kept, they stormed the basement of the large manor that the brothers owned together, and in a very Sherlock Holmes-esque manner, pushed a brick in the basement wall to reveal a corridor to another very large room where almost thirty people were caged. Allen Wallingford was in the room as well, and after he'd spouted off words about how it was "all that little fag's fault", then referencing what he'd done to Dorney, Ziva shot him. Tim smirked to himself at the memory.

"_He was coming at us. You all saw that, right?" _Gibbs had asked with a raised eyebrow to his team and Dorney's two former teammates that had been pulled in to assist. Everyone had nodded their agreements fervently, and Tony rested his hand on Ziva's shoulder as the voices of the victims around them all joined in with words of relief and gratitude. It was one secret that all 35 people would take to their graves.

A week later, and Tony and Gibbs still hadn't really returned to their full functions at work. They were both already obviously losing weight, and no one pushed them to eat other than Abby, mainly because the dark look in the eyes of both of them were enough ward off any attempts to cheer them up. They were both drinking coffee though, so Tim had tried to let it go.

He kept thinking about it, and had dropped a bottle of vitamins on both of their desks the next day when they weren't in the pen. He made himself busy at a copier across the room, and saw them exchange a look with each other when they came back from a coffee run. They both opened the bottles, and took one of the large orange pills.

Things suddenly started going back to normal after that. They still weren't eating yet, at least not around the group, but their countenances were much better, and the focus was back that both had been missing. Tim had just started getting comfortable a few weeks later when they were all in the bullpen and Vance had called Tony and Gibbs into his office, the fire of God written across his face and burning in his voice. Not even five minutes later, Tony was storming down the stairs, grabbing his stuff, and leaving without a word. They waited for Gibbs, hoping to get an answer, but an hour later, he still wasn't out of Vance's office, and they had decided to leave. They couldn't believe the news when they had gotten it from Abby in a text that night, but the next day had been so icy that they had to come to terms with it.

Now, here they were, and Tim was sure that in that darkened room, his boss and best friend had reconciled, and were preparing to hunt down a man and possibly torture him in order to get the location of a mob don and his protégé that were trying to bring down the United States government.

Ziva started to wake up in the seat next to him, startling him out of his memories. She sat up, and stretched.

"I am going to walk back to the gas station to use the restroom, and get some coffee. Then it will be your turn to try and sleep," she said through a yawn.

Tim smiled. He'd been in the position a few times in the past year to watch Ziva waking up, and he was always amazed that she looked so fragile and vulnerable in those first few moments before she realized where she was, and what she was doing. It was so different from her usual expression. He simply nodded at her as she got out of the car with her bag, straightening herself and shaking off the sleep. He noticed that she immediately looked lethal again, and he shook his head the tiniest bit. He looked at his phone, checking the time. It was a little before one in the morning, and he figured that by time Ziva had gotten done, come back, and he had taken his turn at the gas station, he'd have only a few hours to sleep before sunrise.

He sighed, and rested his head against the window as he stared at the motel room door. There had been a lot of changes over the past two years, and he had a feeling that they were about to do things that would bring a lot more of them at warp speed. He really hoped he was ready for it.

**===ncis===**

Tony woke up and hit the alarm on the table next to him. At the same time, Jethro was turning around and trying to slide his fingers around on _his_ phone to make the offending noise stop. They both rolled back over and wrapped their limbs around one another, snuggling in deep and ignoring reality through the snooze. When their phones began chirping again, Tony groaned. He took the phone and hit snooze again, then snatched Jethro's phone from his hands and turned the alarm off completely. He wrapped himself back in Jethro, and began kissing him fervently.

Jethro's arms were around Tony, pulling him on top of him, and pushing the blanket down off the beautiful body above him. Tony gasped as he straddled Jethro's hips and found their morning wood rubbing against each other. He began thrusting his hips against the man below him, kissing him deeply and passionately.

Jethro's fingers were in Tony's hair, keeping their faces together as they thrust wildly against each other, a slickness forming between them made of pre-cum and sweat. Their panting and moaning into one another's mouths made the urgency sing in their blood; the urgency to come quickly because of their task, to come quickly because they needed it so badly, and to come quickly before that damn phone started blaring it's annoying sound again for the world to hear.

Tony was so close to coming he could feel his balls tightening, when Jethro suddenly bit his lower lip and froze before convulsing under him. Tony groaned, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came, the mess between them growing into a swamp of thick white liquid. They lay together in their haze for only a moment before the alarm went off.

"Fuck!" Tony said as he rolled off Jethro's body. "That sound will always be associated with ruining something good. Good dreams, good sex, or at least the post-sex goodness…" he growled as he turned the alarm off, then turned to Jethro, who had only turned his head to watch Tony.

"Morning, Rich," Tony finally said with a much softer tone and a smile. Jethro's smile reached his eyes.

"Morning, Ted."

"Stay still. Let me get something to get some of this mess up before we grind it into the carpet and bed." Tony jumped up and grabbed the stack of napkins on the desk from the previous night's dinner. He cleaned up his own stomach and Jethro's, then tossed the wad of napkins in the trashcan next to the bed. He then bent over Jethro to kiss him again. "Shower, then we gotta go catch up with Marlin for some cinderblocks."

Jethro sat up suddenly and scoffed. "You really have a cinderblocks guy?" he asked in shock, thinking back to what he'd thought was a joke between his lover and Fornell. Tony poked his head around the doorway from the bathroom, and nodded with an expression that Jethro had long ago learned was Tony's "Duh" expression.

"Yeah, and we need to catch him before he runs out to his real job, so come on! Up and at 'em!" Tony turned back to the shower that was warming up and got under the water, soaping up quickly to wash the cum off of him. He washed his face with the small bar of soap, and when he turned the water off and pulled back the curtain, found Jethro tapping out his toothbrush in the sink.

"Next!" he said joyfully, unable to contain his glee at being in the bathroom naked with Jethro again. He ran his towel over him, and Jethro kissed him quickly before jumping under the water. Tony brushed his teeth, and then headed for the bedroom to throw his clothes on. He wore clothes he wasn't going to be heartbroken about if they were ruined, and then packed up all of his stuff as Jethro got dressed.

He took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand, and then went to stand next to Jethro as he put his watch in his duffel, and replaced it with a simple black banded version with a plain face. Jethro turned to him, and took in the green eyes and their conflict. He reached out and pulled Tony towards him, kissing him deeply, trying to convey what he was feeling.

Tony kissed him back just as deeply. When they pulled away, Tony felt fragile for a moment as he looked up into the warm and stable blue eyes, and felt the protective embrace he was in. Fragile, but safe, and he knew that's what he was at the core of all of this- he was fragile. He was vulnerable, and breakable, and he could easily be shattered right now all over again, because in a matter of forty-eight hours, he'd let his past come crashing back into his life, and fill it with love again.

It was a love that he felt bringing life back to the deadest parts of his mind and soul, and he felt his heart swell with it. He also felt protected in those arms though. He felt the security of Jethro's need for him in that kiss, and felt the possessive way Jethro's hand ran up the back of his neck into his hair and played with the locks as he tightened his fingers in them.

"I love you, Tony," Jethro whispered softly, forgetting all about the case and their new identities.

"I love you, too, Jethro," Tony whispered back, feeling like any loud noise might break this sacred space developing between them that he ached to get lost in. He swallowed hard as he closed his eyes, and leaned in to kiss Jethro chastely on the lips before pulling out of the incredible embrace, and picking up his stuff.

Jethro sighed as Tony broke the moment, and stepped away from him to pick up his things.

"I'm gonna check out, and I'll meet you at the car," he said quietly, fighting back the urge to stay locked in that crappy motel room together with Jethro for the rest of his life, hiding from the world.

Jethro nodded, and Tony nodded back.

As Tony opened the door, Jethro's voice surprised them both. "Hey, Ted?"

Tony turned and smiled at Jethro, who shrugged shyly in an endearing way.

"Love you."

Tony beamed. "I love you, too, Rich."

NCIS-NCIS-NCIS

Jethro pulled away from the curb, still trying to wrap his head around the odd discussion Tony had just had with a man named Marlin. Of course, Tony wasn't even Ted, none the less Tony, when he talked to him. He was just Buddy, and Jethro had yet to figure out whether or not that was just a nickname used for all of the people Marlin did business with, or the actual name that Tony went by when dealing with the man.

Marlin not only had walls of cinderblocks lining his back yard, but bricks, décor stones, fencing panels, and a huge privacy fence around it all that made Jethro wonder where all of it was stolen from, and what the man did that allowed him to get away with it. Jethro had raised an eyebrow to Tony when he got back in the car, and Tony just shrugged, said it was related to another case and not to worry about it. They weren't Marlin's only pre-dawn customers, and they were able to get away without much notice with their minor load, so Jethro decided to do just that and worry instead about their morning plans.

Jethro stopped to get gas, and Tony told him to pull into the Walgreens next door. He didn't ask why, but Tony told him he would just need a few minutes. When he came out ten minute later, Tony had two cases of water, and a series of bags hanging over his arms. Jethro got out and opened the back door for Tony to put his stuff into. He dropped the cases of water onto the seat, along with a bag full of children's jump ropes, and a box of large black trash bags.

When Tony was back in the front seat, he opened one of the other bags and took out a bottle of vitamins that he had gotten, handing it to Jethro. Jethro nodded in understanding.

They couldn't eat after torturing Wallingford. It had taken ten days before they ate anything, and they both lost a lot of weight over that time and the next three weeks as they tried to get back into the habit of eating regularly again. They were going to have to keep their energy up this time though, and he hoped the vitamins would help if they couldn't eat again. To go with their vitamins, Tony had gotten them a lot of nuts, sunflower seeds, Powerbars, Jerky, Twizzlers and Reese cups.

After someone had left vitamins on their desks for them the last time, Tony got the point, and had started off eating Twizzlers and Reese cups under Abby's coaching. He had even gotten Gibbs to eat a couple Reese cups, and from that, they both started craving nuts, and since nuts are high in fat and protein, they had slowly started to come around on them. He hoped it would work again.

"Do you think we'll need them this time?" Jethro asked quietly.

"After the first one, but it will probably go much smoother after that. I hate to say it, but I see us making a habit out of this. Not really a habit I would have chosen, but a habit none the less." Tony's voice was just as quiet as Jethro's, the tone matching perfectly with a hint of anxiety and deep sadness.

"We'll do whatever we have to," Jethro said, reaching out to squeeze Tony's hand. Tony sighed in relief that Jethro was the one with him, and he felt determination and resolve settle in him again. He had Jethro- he could do anything.

"Let's do this, then."

Jethro nodded and popped open the bottle, breaking the seal and tapping out two pills. Tony reached in the back seat and tore through the plastic for a bottle of water. He took one of the tablets from Jethro and popped it in his mouth, then swallowed some of the water before handing the bottle off to his partner, who did the same. Jethro handed the bottle back, and turned the ignition over on the car.

They had decided to intercept Parleurs on his way home from his crappy third shift job at the drive thru. It wasn't much trouble to break into his apartment, and when they got into it, they knew they were in the right place. It was much nicer than they expected, but the walk-in closet in the bedroom was actually lined with curtains that when pulled back revealed a weapons cache, and there was a small desk set up in there to cut and portion coke. There were a few tiny Ziploc bags full of the white powder, and even more were sitting on a tray.

There were crates of things sitting around the living room and kitchen, including burn phones, tablets and laptops. Tony wondered if taking some of them could be beneficial to them, but they decided that if the mob was supplying them, the mob could locate them, and they decided not to chance it. They took their pick from the weapons cache though, and Tony walked out of the closet holding up one of the baggies.

"Yeah? We can't do anything about that right now. Much bigger fish to fry," Jethro said, but Tony shook his head.

"No, this is coming with us," Tony said, pocketing it.

"Why are we stealing a drug runner's coke?" Jethro asked, standing up straight from a crate he was looking into.

"The truth serum drugs are two years old at least. If for some reason they aren't working, and we use more, and we somehow overdose someone before they can give us what we need, a dusting of this will bring their heart back up to normal speed."

Jethro nodded at him with a critical eye.

Tony smirked and shook his head, moving close enough to whisper in Jethro's ear. "Don't worry, Richard. After spending time in a Narc Unit, you learn what this shit is actually good for. It was never one of my vices."

Jethro actually blushed at being caught thinking Tony might be giving into an addict's temptation. He felt appropriately scolded at his lack of trust in his partner, and he nodded with a sigh of relief.

"I'd pretty much expected that your vices were alcohol and sex, but considering you managed to give up sex for almost two years, I guess I have to wonder what you filled the void with."

"More alcohol, and dreams of having sex with you. Oh, and work. I'm pretty much a non-recovering workaholic these days." Tony winked at Jethro as he went back to scouring the house, a little unnerved at the feeling of three different guns tucked in his waistline and the clatter of rounds in his pockets.

They packed up the man's laptop and charger, as well as a few memory sticks they had found. Next, they plotted an escape route to the fire escape and checked to make sure it was stable enough to get down. Tony grabbed an extension cord to tie their perp's wrists with instead of using handcuffs to make it seem less like cops were taking him and more like the mob, and Jethro found a thick pillowcase to throw over the man's head. They turned off all of the lights in the house, and waited by the door for him in silence.

Parleurs finally came home, and Tony and Gibbs were ready. Tony hit him over the head with pan, causing the man to drop to his knees in pain. He hadn't hit him too hard, just enough to stun him. Meanwhile, Gibbs threw the pillowcase over the man's head, and kicked him hard once in the stomach to make sure he stayed down. Tony grabbed his hands and tied the extension cord around them, making sure he was secured as he frisked him for his piece which he found tucked in the front waistband of his jeans. They kept going, and found another wrapped around his calf.

Gibbs pulled the man to his feet, ignoring the long string of angry insults coming from a mouth no one could see. Tony kept frisking him, pulling the baggie full of coke baggies from his boxers and tossing it along with the man's keys on the kitchen counter, while turning off his cell and pocketing it. He also pulled out Parleurs' wallet, and took the thick stack of cash in it, leaning in to tell the man to shut up or be gagged. Gibbs nodded in appreciation, but Tony wasn't sure if it was because of the cash or Tony's threat to gag their mouthy dealer.

"You're coming with us. You have some explaining to do," Tony said, pulling out a bit of the New Yorker in him to make the guy think he was dealing with the mob, and he knew it worked when the guy went silent and still suddenly. A whole new string of words with an entirely different attitude started coming from him, begging to talk face to face, promising that whatever answers they needed he'd give them, that they were on the same side, and he would never betray La Cosa Nostra.

"We'll see about that," Tony said, again with a bit of an Italian New Yorker's accent. They found that their perp was shaking, but came more willingly now that he had hope that he might be able to offer what was being asked and survive the ordeal. Tony felt a bit of dark glee in the knowledge that he wouldn't. His yearlong saga with the Giovanni's was finally moving towards the end, and soon they would bring down the organization once and for all.

NCIS-NCIS-NCIS

McGee had been asleep when Ziva suddenly turned the ignition over on the rental car. It startled him and he sat up, throwing his seatbelt on, the immediate danger of Ziva's driving scaring him more than what they were really involved with.

"I take it they're on the move," he said with a yawn.

"Yes. Tony has just left the room, and is heading towards the office to check out."

Tim pulled out his laptop and opened it up, clicking the series of keys to bring it back to life in dark mode. He tapped into the security cameras of the motel to watch as Tony checked out, the audio feed kicked in and they heard him joking around with the overnight attendant at the front desk. Tim zoomed in tightly on the computer's screen, and saw that the room was indeed registered to a Gaylord T. Dickenshire. He then zoomed in on Tony's hands, and saw the Tony was texting someone. He zoomed in as close as he could and the only thing he could figure out was the word 'cinderblocks', but he wasn't sure if he was reading into that or not.

Ziva was watching with her binoculars as Gibbs came back out to the car, and put his bags in the back seat before getting behind the wheel. Tony came out and put his stuff in the back seat as well, and Ziva shook her head, realizing that was a bad sign. She looked over at Tim who had just read "cinderblocks", and was cleaning up a still frame of the part of Tony's phone he could to clarify it. She noticed that he didn't look too happy either.

"What is wrong, McGee?"

"Why would they need cinderblocks?" he asked, looking impossibly pale.

"Probably for the same reason they put their things in the back seat instead of the trunk."

Tim shook his head. "I really hope they know what they're doing."

"It is Gibbs and Tony, McGee. Do they ever not know what they are doing?"

"Every time they get together, all reason and caution gets thrown to the wind. I wish we knew where the line was this time so we knew when they were crossing it, but we're going in kind of blind. From what I was reading in the file, they have a presidential pardon to get away with just about anything regarding this case."

Ziva brought the binoculars down from her eyes as she backed out to begin following them. "We must be extremely careful then, McGee, because that is something we do _not_ have."

"Yeah, tell me about it. We're screwed if we get involved and someone finds out the details. As is, Vance is probably going to kill us for running after them on our own."

"We will just have to make sure we save the day when the time comes like Tony always did, and then all will be forgiven. Hopefully." Ziva caught the extremely skeptical look on Tim's face and shrugged. "And perhaps pray a little," she added, making Tim snicker as he worked on the laptop.

They followed Gibbs and Tony to a subdivision, and Ziva kept going when she saw the No Outlet sign on the street they had turned on to. She cursed under her breath, and sped off down the road. Tim realized that something was wrong.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"They just turned into that subdivision, and it is a No Outlet. I think they may have made us, and have pulled up there to see if we follow." She went around a curve, and saw a school on a small hill with a parking lot. She pulled in and turned the car so that she could see the end of the street Gibbs and Tony had headed up. She noticed an odd number of cars going up and down that street for this time of morning, and pulled out her binoculars to watch.

"What's with all the traffic?" Tim asked. "It's not even six A.M. yet." He pulled up the map of the area, and found the street's name. He then Googled it to see what kind of information came up. There were a few houses for sale up in the area, but nothing really significant. He then remembered Tony's text, and decided to add something to the search. When searching the street name with "cinderblocks", he was given a Craigslist ad for a guy who claimed to sell all sorts of deck building and gardening supplies. It said that he was liquidating a landscaping business, but Tim noted that the ad had been running for almost two years now.

"They're getting their cinderblocks from a guy up here."

"What? How do you know that?" Ziva asked, looking towards his laptop for a brief second before putting her sights back on the end of the street.

Tim ran through the ad with her, and she nodded her understanding. Just a few minutes later, she was tossing her binoculars on the dashboard and turning over the ignition to pull out of the school. She followed their boss and friend as inconspicuously as possible, and pulled into a McDonalds when she saw that they had stopped for something at a drug store.

Ziva saw Tony come out with what appeared to be provisions, and watched the two men sit in the car. Her binoculars to her eyes, she sat back in confusion, and squinted through the lenses again.

"What?" Tim asked.

"I am not sure. They both just appeared to take some kind of medication orally."

Tim ran his hand down his face. "It's okay. I know what they are. Just…" he sighed heavily. "Just follow them."

"McGee," she said sternly as she turned over the ignition and pulled out into the slightly busier traffic. "We do not keep secrets from each other. That has been the promise since Tony left. It is you and I against it all. You need to tell me what they are taking. Are they sick?"

Tim smiled at her, recalling that day that they promised to be there for each other when they realized Gibbs wasn't going to be himself anytime soon, and Tony wasn't coming back.

"It's okay, Ziva. It's just a vitamin. You remember how much weight they lost after they tortured Wallingford?" Ziva nodded as she drove. "Well, they weren't eating, so I left them vitamins on their desks, and they took them. It wasn't long after that that they started eating again. They're going to do what they have to when they catch up with Parleurs, and it looks like our theory is right, that's all."

"This is going to be a long week," Ziva said with a sigh. "We really need to find a moment that we can put a GPS tracker on their car, or we are never going to sleep."

"I'll get one ready, and the first chance we get, we'll take. I'm not sure we're going to be able to get as close to this as we want to, at least not without exposing ourselves and risking their safety."

"If we have a really great chance, I would very much like to get a bug in there as well. You said you have that available?" she asked.

"Yes, I do. I'll sync one of them up, too."

Their snooping led them back towards the city, where Gibbs and Tony parked in an alley between two large buildings with storefronts on the bottom and apartments upstairs. They watched as they made their way back around the front of the building, and found the door leading to the apartments unlocked.

"That was lucky. Now might be the best shot at getting their car bugged and wired."

"The GPS tracker will be simple. Where should I place the bug so we can hear? I doubt I will be able to open a door without their alarm going off." Ziva unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her black hoodie up over her head.

"Try to see if there is something on the back window that looks like a conduit for the rear window defrosters. Align it as best as you can with that so that it looks like part of that system, or possibly the antenna if it's attached to the window. We can generally get a good reading off the sounds bouncing through the glass. If all else fails, the lowest corner of the front windshield, where it won't be knocked off by the wipers. Driver's side if at all possible since Gibbs' voice is softer when he's talking normally, and he's usually driving."

Ziva nodded and took the devices, sliding them into her pockets before getting out of the car. Tim climbed over the middle console, and got into the driver's seat in case something happened and they had to make a break for it. He watched the clock as it counted down the minutes. At four minutes, he looked from the door to the alley, and saw Ziva walking down the street away from the car. She had her phone to her ear, and suddenly Tim's pocket was vibrating.

"Meet me up on the corner," she said before hanging up on him. Tim pulled out, and left the view of the building to go pick up Ziva on the corner.

"What's up?" he asked when she got into the car.

"Turn left down the next alley," she demanded. He did, and pulled through towards the end, following her instructions. There, they parked and waited. "They are parked under the fire escape, and are faced to exit through the other end of the alley. They are going to kidnap him, and make their way out through here somewhere." She looked around to see where the best route would be for a quick getaway.

Tim looked too and suggested, "I'd probably go down the alley, turn left, turn right down that alley over there, and come out on Magnolia. That runs into Jefferson right where you get on the Beltway. They'd have an easy escape from there."

"That would make the most sense as long as where they are planning to take him is not close to here," she agreed.

"So now, we just wait," Tim said, feeling as idle as the engine of their car.

"I believe this is the proverbial calm before the storm," Ziva said, reaching into the backseat for one of their bags of snacks until she found the one she was looking for. She opened a bag of trail mix and handed it over to Tim who took a handful and handed it back.

"Storm? Heh. I think at this point we're already battling the squall. I'm surprised Vance hasn't sent out a search party."

"Who says he hasn't?" Ziva said, chewing her nuts and fruit.

"Good point, though I think Abby would at least try to keep him from it after our talk this morning."

"You did not tell her we were leaving?" she asked.

"Not directly, no, but I told her that we wouldn't let anything happen to Gibbs and Tony, and when we left, I figure she'd put it together." Ziva nodded, not sure what else to say. Tim's voice continued low and angry as he stared down the alley for their quarry. "I swear, if Vance puts the pressure on her to search for us, and gets one of us killed, I will either haunt him or…"

Ziva blinked hard as she looked at McGee. She was not used to seeing him so passionate about things, but the past few days had shown that even unflappable Timothy McGee was at his breaking point. That worried her in some ways, but in others, made her realize that despite everything, there was a lot more to McGee than she had ever been willing to see, and she was glad to find those traits coming through now when they really needed them.

She knew it was taking a lot of courage to go dark without notifying the Director, and she knew that McGee was probably struggling with qualms about not notifying Gibbs and Tony of their presence. Not telling Abby where they were had to be killing him, she reasoned, but he was considering everyone's safety first, and she finally felt like she was under Tim as an SFA as much as she was next to him as his partner in the field. It was comforting, and she not only believed that she was at the right place at the right time, but with the right person.


	13. Chapter 13

_This chapter contains graphic physical violence, and is pretty dark compared to what I normally write, which pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy (but not too much, 'cause that would be creepy ;))!_

Chapter Thirteen

Jethro could hear the pounding of the man in their trunk as they pulled into an old ship graveyard. Tony was directing him where to go, and he took in the desertion around them, checking for any and all places where someone might be hiding that would hear what they were about to do. Tony pointed to the left, and Jethro nodded before coming to park inside one of the vacant warehouses that was conveniently missing a wall.

He realized that Tony had been here before for something, but he decided to save the questions 'when' and 'why' for later. They got out, stretched, and headed towards the trunk. Jethro grabbed his box from the floor of the backseat, and then came to stand at the trunk with Tony to listen to their perp screaming for help. Tony remembered he had the coke in his pocket, and decided to put it in the bottom of the tackle box. He reached for the box and held up the baggie, letting Jethro know silently what he was planning on doing. Jethro nodded at him and opened it up so Tony could put the baggie of powder under the tray with the vials and needles.

"Guess we should let him out," Tony said softly.

"We can do this, Ted," Jethro whispered. "We've got each other, and when it gets to be too much, we'll take turns."

Tony nodded, and Jethro hit the trunk release on the keychain fob. The man inside sat up immediately, and Tony pulled him up and out of the trunk, keeping a tight rein on his face covering so that it wouldn't come off somehow. The knot that Jethro had tied at the guy's neck was pretty tight though, so Tony used it more as a leash. He ignored the slimeball's pleas for mercy and for a normal conversation, and led them to a small storage room that he knew would be perfect for their purposes.

Jethro stopped in the doorway of the small room, unnerved that there was already a chair in the middle of the room. Tony saw the look on his face and once they made sure Parleurs was tied down sufficiently to the heavy wooden chair, he pulled out his phone and texted Jethro quickly.

_We're prepared for things like this._

Jethro read the text as he started to spread out the tools from the kit, laying things out on a rickety wooden table. He simply raised an eyebrow at Tony and shrugged. It was another one of those things that he realized he was going to have to get used to. His partner was now part of the FBI, and he had a feeling that he was involved in some extremely classified cases that he would never know about. He hoped and prayed that Tony would never have to torture anyone without him by his side, but he knew that there was always that chance. He swallowed back the thought, and shook his head.

_If anyone has to be there with him other than me, at least it's Tobias, _he thought with a twinge of jealous sadness that he had to repress in order to keep a straight head through this ordeal.

He turned around to find that Tony was circling their victim, and the predatory look on Tony's face made Jethro a little colder on the inside.

Tony started pacing around Parleurs, thinking about where this was all leading to. He kept telling himself that this was the first of the bastards that would help him get to the Giovannis. He reminded himself that he was doing this to protect the people he loved, the threat on national security, and to keep his FBI team safe so they wouldn't have to put themselves in the line of fire.

He thought of Abby on the phone earlier, begging him not to put himself in danger, and his promise to Meghan that he'd be there three Tuesdays out. He tuned out everything the creep was saying, including threats that he had powerful people behind him that would make their lives a living hell, and he watched every motion as the man tried to twist his wrists loose from where they were bound behind his back, and how he tried to tip over the chair that was bolted to the floor. He noticed that the man's shirt was covered in sweat, and when he breathed in, he smelled the heavy metallic smell of a room that had known blood. He sunk into a darker place within himself and he knew he was ready.

"I'm going to go grab what we need from the car," Tony said, and Jethro turned to him. "Can you get his wrists tied down for me?" Tony made the clicking motion of fingers on a keyboard, and Jethro nodded.

As Tony headed back from the car with Parleur's laptop, he powered it up and used his backup aircard to get them online. Surfing through the guy's email, he saw that he was getting orders from someone named Dave. He sat the computer down on the table next to Jethro and opened a blank document. He began typing about Dave, and Jethro nodded his understanding.

Tony flipped back to the email, and Jethro watched over his shoulder, reading what he could. Tony typed the important things in a much larger font into the blank document for Jethro to read. The entire time, both men ignored the torrent of threats and whimpers from the man behind them, but when Tony noticed the buffet of instruments at his disposal, he took a deep breath. He shook his head and went back to the blank document, typing again.

_He's terrified. We'll see what we can get out of him with some basics first, and then see from there whether or not we need to use the serum. Would rather not try something so hard on someone already so afraid that he'll probably squeal easily. _

Jethro nodded, then took control of the keys. _Would you rather start or talk first?_

_Talk, _Tony typed back immediately, realizing he wasn't ready to start inflicting pain.

Jethro nodded again, and Tony sighed in relief before closing his eyes for a long moment, thinking of the questions he needed to start with in order to get the man to open up. When Tony opened his eyes again, Jethro saw a different man there. His eyes had lost all warmth, and the cold, calculating, distant anger he saw there made Tony look extremely dangerous.

_It's too bad Parleurs can't see him like that,_ Jethro thought. _It's scaring _me_, so I can only imagine what he'd think. _

Tony turned to their mob runner, and watched the man squirm.

"Here's how this is going to work," Tony said with a cold edged death tone. "We have some questions for you. If you answer them, you stay in one piece. If you don't answer them, we start breaking you into pieces. Sound like a plan?" Tony didn't wait for an answer. "Good. Let's begin. How long have you been in the service of the Giovanni family now?"

"Uh, three years?" the man said, confusion obvious in his voice.

"And in that time, what has been your main role?"

"I courier, mostly. Odd jobs here and there for my handler."

Tony looked at Jethro, then back at Parleurs. "Be more specific."

"What? Who the hell are y-" the man suddenly howled as Jethro reached down and snapped one of his fingers back with such force that is dangled sickeningly from his hand.

After his screams died down, Tony prompted him.

"Let's try this again. Specifics."

"I-" he started through his sobs. "I sell smack for him." The sobbing continued, and Tony tried not to look at the hanging finger. He'd almost rather have seen the digit cut off than hanging there like that.

"That's not all you do."

"I'm not even really with them! I just get the fringe benefits of selling for them, please!" he begged. Jethro reached down and broke another finger on the man's hand, sending another scream through the air.

"That's Richard," Tony says after the second finger is broken. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret about Rich and I. See, Rich is more likely to break things- fingers, arms… necks- but other than that, he would rather just shoot your sorry ass. I, however, would prefer to take my time with you. You don't tell me what I want to know, and I'm going to carve up every inch of your body with the dullest knife I own. In my experience, it's hard to keep people talking when they're dead, so I'll keep you alive so that I can listen to you beg for mercy between your revelations, and you _will_ reveal. If you tell us everything we need to know, you'll walk away with a few broken bones that will heal in time. If you try to keep the information from us we need, we'll drag this out as long as we need to, and I'll get to have some fun with you. Your choice."

Jethro watched Tony's expression, darkening unnecessarily by the second, despite the pillowcase still over their victim's head that prevented him from seeing the evil glint. It took everything in him not to shiver along with their perp. He thought he'd realized how much Tony had hardened and changed by now, but the look on his lover's face proved that there was definitely something cold and hard in him that he was tapping into right then, and he had to wonder if whatever Tony did to the man in front of them was once fantasized about being done to himself as punishment for letting Tony go. He swallowed, and started circling the man, trying to get back into that zone Tony had just pulled him out of. He was almost surprised at how easily he found it again.

Tony asked Parleurs the question again, and he answered readily with a whimper. "I prepare tech for them. When they steal a batch of phones or computers, I make sure they're wiped, recoded, rekeyed, and ready for distribution or resale."

"Now see how much easier it is when you just tell us what we need to know?" The man shuddered visibly, and Jethro circled him like prey.

"Who handles you?" Tony asked, watching the prowess of his partner rather than look down at that dangling finger, and the one next to it that was bent at an odd angle.

"I can't tell you, man! He'll kill me as soon as I step foot in the city again! It's like he knows a snitch from miles away! Please do-" The scream was lost in sobs as Jethro broke the man's left wrist, twisting it hard as the bones crushed in his fingers. The man sobbed and tried to move his fingers, but couldn't. "Dave!" Parleurs sobbed openly, wailing out the name of his handler.

"Where can we find Dave?"

"You _want_ to find Dave? You're just asking for trouble."

Jethro looked at Tony, the dark clouds over both of their eyes at this point, and Tony picked up a knife with a rather sharp-but-not-too-sharp hook-tipped blade. He also picked up the icepick. Jethro watched him pick his utensils, and remembered the last time he had seen Tony yield an icepick. He was glad Tony's back was turned and the perp's head was still covered in the pillowcase, because he couldn't suppress the shiver this time. His hairs stood on end, and he made sure to stand further back from Parleurs than usual. He knew at least one of them needed to be bloodless in order to check into a hotel that night, and it was obvious to him that it wasn't going to be Tony.

Tony started off easy, slashing the man's thigh with a quick swipe, letting him know that he meant business. "Now, answer the question," Tony said into his ear as the man sobbed. Parleurs begged for mercy through his blubbering, and Tony wondered how much more they were going to be able to get out of him.

Jethro spoke up, his voice emotionless and cold. "As you can tell, it's my turn to ask the questions. Everything from here on out, Ted will be persuading you to answer. I'd suggest you answer quickly. Where can we find Dave?"

"I can't tell you! Please! Oh, God, no! He'll kill me! Please!" Tony crouched down quickly, almost like a pounce, and shoved the icepick through Parleurs' shoe, right through his foot. Tony felt a surge of anger, and then the way the icepick pressed through the cheap leather and then flesh, crunching through bones, and then flesh again before hitting the sole of the shoe and getting stuck. The man screamed loudly, and it echoed off the walls, and some barbaric part of Tony was satisfied that he still had the touch.

"I think you'd better answer, otherwise you'll be wishing for death soon," Jethro answered cooly, looking at Tony, not their perp. He didn't want Tony to get as lost as they got last time. This wasn't as personal as the Wallingford case, and he knew what that had done to him.

"I don't know! I usually meet him at the coffee house at the corner of Constitution and Virginia."

"When are you supposed to meet him next?" Jethro asked calmly.

"A few days I think," he answered tentatively.

Tony sliced open the man's shirt, and he yelped in fear, though Tony didn't piece the skin.

"What do you mean, you think?" Jethro answered with an edge.

"There's an email! I got an email last week with the date, and I know it's either Saturday or Sunday, but I don't remember. It's at noon though, I can tell you that! I'd have to look at my email." Tony pulled the icepick from Parleurs' foot with a quick jerk, and he screamed again. Jethro went over to the laptop and pulled up the man's email client. He saw the list of emails he'd received and shook his head, not sure which one it was.

"What is the email address it's coming from?" Jethro asked.

"Something like, HedonKing and some numbers. The subject line will be 'Let's Do Lunch'. That's our code for the emails." The whimper in Parleurs' voice made Tony wonder if he was going to piss himself.

Jethro opened up the email. "What other code words do you have?"

Tony rested the blade of his knife on the center of Parleurs' chest, letting him know that he had better answer honestly and quickly. Tony specifically didn't think about how the man's chest rose and fell faster under the pressure of the blade against his sternum.

"We, uh, we uh say that we're going to bring fresh eggs if he's bringing me more phones to activate, and he uh, he calls me his pet project, but I don't know if that's really a code or just something to make me feel important, but really, I know that he's just using me. He keeps me supplied though, you know? And I make a killing selling at the drive thru, so I don't really care. He just, ya know, asks me to do stuff for him, and I do it."

"What kind of "stuff" do you do for him other than the tech support and running?" Jethro asked as he looked over the email.

He hesitated, and Tony made a long, slow slice down the center of his chest, causing him to emit a high keening sound into the air. Tony felt the skin give way under the blade, and watched the man jolt, causing the knife to go deeper. Tony started to push even deeper, but pulled back, knowing he needed to save some pain for later questions.

Jethro turned around and watched the blood oozing down the man's chest. Tony looked up at Jethro to find out if he was going to ask again. When Tony's eyes met Jethro's there was still life in them, but when Jethro watched as he asked the question, and Tony turned back to the perp, it was like someone flipped a switch and the light was turned off completely. Jethro wasn't quite sure what to think, but that moment made him feel a little better, knowing that his Tony was still in there somewhere.

"I pick up guns for him from time to time, and hold them until I see him, or I'll transfer guns for him to people. Just carrying, ya know? And of course, he gets half of what comes in from selling the smack."

"You've never made anyone disappear for him?" Jethro asked blandly, as if he really didn't care about the answer.

"N-no," he answered. Tony immediately stabbed him in the thigh with the icepick, making him scream out again. This one caused blood to squirt out over Tony's arm, but Tony just looked up at Parleurs, not caring at all that he was being covered with the warm lifeblood that meant he'd hit the femoral artery. "Okay! Okay! I've ran a couple of hits for him! Goddamn!"

"Who?" Jethro asked, taking note on the same document that Tony had brought up earlier.

"Another runner that was keeping his cut on a large dole out and a stack of weapons, a guy that went by 'Bobblehead' on the street. I don't know the guy's real name. The other guy was Stevie K. He was a low level on the totem pole that kept mouthing off about how he was gonna come up and shit, but he was just talkin' shit, ya know? A cocky son of a bitch. He pissed Dave of one day right before our lunch, and he paid me twenty stacks to go take care of him. Took me in the bathroom, rolled out ten, told me to meet him back there the next day, same time, and he'd give me the other ten. I didn't dare say no when he's pissed like that."

"And when he's dropping live cash on ya like that," Tony muttered in the man's ear, letting him know he was right there.

"Yeah, true. I won't lie; the money was good."

Jethro's voice rang out over the room. He knew this is where the conversation was going to turn and show where they were on the information line, but they had no choice.

"What is Dave's relation to Frankie Giovanni?"

"Uhh…" the guy said, his entire body tensing up. Tony jerked the icepick out of Parleurs' leg and plunged it back in a few inches away before jerking it out again to let the blood spray them both. Parleurs screeched, but that was it. His mouth stayed hanging open, but nothing else came out.

"Are you deaf?" Tony asked quietly in his ear. He was tired of this already, and he wanted to get to the part where they dumped his dead body in the bay, and then washed the blood off that he could feel staining his skin. Parleurs simply shook his head no quickly. "I can make that happen, you know." Tony started circling the inside of the man's ear with the icepick, leaving a warm trail of blood that was cold when Tony's breath hit it. Jethro had to grind his teeth as he watched, praying the man said something so he didn't have to witness that. Instead though, Tony made another slash across the man's chest, going diagonally, cutting much deeper this time. The man didn't make a sound though. He waited until Tony had lifted the knife off of him, and then made a renewed effort to break free from his restraints.

Tony came behind the man and pulled him back with one arm around his neck, placing the icepick's tip right over the man's heart. He froze, and Tony nodded.

"That's better. Now, answer the question," Tony said coldly.

"Frankie will have me killed anyway, so you might as well do it."

Tony got close to his ear. "I'm sure he will. Maybe when we're done with you, we'll patch you up and send you back out there. Let's make it obvious what's been going on, shall we?" Tony reached out to where the man's hands were gripping the edge of the chair, and cut off the dangling finger in one swift, hard chop. The man screamed again, the sobbing trying it's best to eat away at Tony's compartmentalizing.

Jethro kept going through the emails as quickly as possible, trying to find something they could use to make him talk so Tony could stop slicing and dicing their scumbag. Tony wasn't just formidable, but unearthly and terrifying like this, and Jethro wanted- no, he _needed-_ for it to stop.

"Hey, Don," Jethro said, making Tony look up curiously. "Who's Samantha?"

Parleurs tried to struggle out of Tony's hold furiously suddenly, his anger easily overriding his pain.

"What the fuck do you know about Samantha?!" he shouted.

"I know you email her every few days. Tell me, who is she to you?"

"You leave my baby sister alone! You hear me! You fuckin' hear me you fuckin' pricks! I don't know who in the fuck you guys are, but I swear to God, if you touch a fucking hair on my little sister, I will kill you, and everyone you fucking know! You got it?!" Tony looked at Jethro with a look of approval, and Jethro smirked. They had him.

"I tell you what. We'll leave her alone. We'll even see what we can do to watch her back, but you gotta tell us everything you know about Frankie."

Tony let go of the man as he calmed considerably into a shaky ball of nerves. The pillowcase was sticking to the outline of his face, and Tony really wished it wouldn't. Without having a face to look into, it made the torture significantly easier on him. He stepped over to Jethro and closed his eyes for a minute, leaning on the table. Jethro reached up to rub a hand over Tony's neck a few times, reminding him to stay loose, and that he was there with him. Jethro considered that his tag in, and he went back over to the blood covered man, awaiting Tony's questions.

Tony meanwhile wiped his hands on his shirt, and started working at the computer. He brought up an infosearch on Parleurs' little sister, and found out she was in her early twenties, ten years younger than Parleurs himself, and she was technically his half-sister. They had the same mother, who was deceased. She was the only person alive still related to Parleurs, though the girl's father was still alive. She lived in Baltimore, not in D.C., and he considered a possible connection that actually might be able keep her safe.

"Let's ask this question again," Tony started. "What is Dave's relation to Frankie Giovanni?"

Parleurs sighed heavily, and Tony recognized the tone of defeat. "I think he's some kind of cousin, but in ya know, _working_ relation, he oversees the runners for the East District."

"Very good," Tony said quietly as he typed up the information. "Who oversees the rest of the districts?"

"Uh, I think some guy named Hamilton is over the West, but I don't know for sure, 'cause, ya know, I don't go over that way. I'd get my ass kicked if they thought I was trying to sell in those parts, so I try an' stay around here, ya know?"

Tony looked at Jethro, and Jethro shrugged. Tony did too, and they took the answer as truth.

"Have you ever met Frankie?" Tony asked.

"No! And I don't wanna! Dave is as far into the mess as I'm willing to get involved with. He's crazy enough without having to deal with the rest of his crazy-ass family."

"What do you know about this "crazy-ass family"?"

"Like what?"

Jethro leaned down in Parleur's ear. "Like everything." Parleurs jumped, not realizing Jethro was so close to him, and he swallowed hard.

"I only know what I hear from the streets," he said. Jethro came around and crushed his heel against the foot Tony had stabbed with the icepick, and he felt the bones crushing under him as he grinded down. Parleurs threw his head back in pain, and Jethro put all his weight on that one foot, eliciting a cry from the man beneath him. "Okay! Dave wants to move up the ladder. He's been saying he's got a major score planned that he thinks that Frankie will be, like, I dunno, impressed with or something, and that I might be able to help him with it since he trusts me."

"Guess he shouldn't have trusted you," Tony said as he typed up the information being relayed. "What kind of score? Drugs? Weapons? Human trafficking?"

Jethro saw that Parleurs' head cocked a little to the side, and he knew that he was trying to figure out why they were asking these kinds of questions. He really wanted to punch him in the face, but he didn't want his nose to bleed and cause the pillowcase to be any more see-through than it already was. Instead, he reached forward and punched him hard in the chest, making him cough and gag. "Answer his question," Jethro said firmly.

"He didn't say, but…" Parleurs gasped, trying to breathe and having difficulty. "I'm pretty sure it's weapons."

Tony nodded, looking at Jethro. Dave would lead them to Giovanni. "What else did he say about this score?" he asked.

Parleurs was still having trouble breathing, and Tony and Jethro looked at each other. They knew that Jethro had broken a rib with that one, and probably punctured a lung. They'd be putting him out of his misery soon enough. "Was gonna tell me at lunch," he gasped out.

"What does Dave look like?" Tony asked.

Parleurs gasped hard and wheezed, and both Jethro and Tony saw the red stain coming through on the pillowcase that meant Parleurs was gasping blood. "Dark hair to shoulder, slim… help me," he wheezed.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded at Jethro again. Jethro stood behind the man and pulled out his gun, cocked it, and shot Parleurs in the back of the head.

Silence fell over the room, and Jethro locked eyes with Tony. They stood there for a long time, and then Tony suddenly lurched forward and retched, throwing up everywhere. Jethro was by Tony's side, his hand on Tony's back, rubbing it in circles as he leaned over the table. After a few minutes, Tony suddenly stood up and turned to walk out of the room, startling Jethro.

"We need the rope and cinderblocks."

"Wait!" Jethro chased after him, stopping him at the doorway. "You'll get blood on everything. Wait here." Jethro reached into Tony's pocket and retrieved the keys, watching as Tony's blank eyes flickered for a moment with reason. Jethro looked down at himself as he headed for the car. The only thing that had blood on it was his left shoe and his right fist. He got into the car with his left hand, and pulled one of the bottles of water out. He opened it and rinsed his hands off, then ran it over his shoe, hoping to get rid of some of the blood. It didn't do too badly. He grabbed two of the cinderblocks, two of the large black trash bags, and a couple of the jump ropes from the floor of the backseat.

He went back in to find that Tony had already untied the dead man from the chair, and was taking a picture.

"What are you doing?" Jethro asked in confusion.

"For Dave- I've got an idea, but I gotta work it out some more." Tony pulled Parleurs forward a bit, and Jethro slipped the trash bag over the body as far as he could. They tied the jump rope around him, cutting off the handles, and then tied the cinderblocks to the rope. Together, they carried him out of the building, careful to scan the area to make sure they didn't have any visitors. The coast was clear though, and they headed for a rusted out fishing boat that was half-beached with a boarding plank down. They took him to the bow, and tossed him overboard with a great heave.

Tony watched the body sink easily, and Jethro's hand on his shoulder made him turn around and follow him back to the warehouse. They stopped at the car and grabbed a few more bottles of water and Tony's clothes. Jethro once again guided Tony, this time back into the warehouse, and very gently stopped him before going into the back room.

He tenderly pulled Tony's bloody clothes off of him, and left them in a pile next to him. Then, using one of Tony's socks and the bottles of water, he got as much of the blood off of him as possible. He helped Tony get new clothes on, and then put the bloody clothes into the other trash bag. Tony stood still with the trash bag in his hand while Jethro gathered the laptop and torture kit. He then guided Tony back to the car, and Tony got in, shoeless, on the passenger's side. Jethro took the bag from Tony and opened the trunk, putting it under the spare tire.

"The email said that Dave was supposed to meet him Saturday for lunch. We've got a couple of days. Let's get away for a while. We'll go get a few things we'll need, and we can go camp for the night out in Seneca. We'll be able to burn the clothes there without too much suspicion, and this time of year, we'll be able to avoid other people fairly easily."

Tony turned to him, liking the sound of being away from people. He remembered that after Wallingford, he'd gone cold like this immediately, but Jethro got hit with the emotions later on. He understood that being away would be best.

"Seneca may be too far away," he said. "And besides, that's kind of a happy place for us. Is there some place closer?"

"I can think of a few places," Jethro said. "Seneca _Creek_ is up towards Baltimore, so if you wanted to snoop around and find this Samantha girl, we'd be close."

"Let's do that, then."

They hit a Walmart store on the way out of town, and Jethro went in by himself. He hated shopping in big crowded stores, but something about being lost in the crowd for the moment felt secure. He made his way back to the sporting goods department and found a tent, a campfire pot, a couple of thermoses and sleeping bags. He crammed them all into a cart, and for good measure, he even picked up a fishing pole to keep up appearances for his "tackle box" if they were stopped by park rangers. He picked up a couple of extra throw blankets to sit on the ground by the fire, a couple of towels, and a bucket so Tony could wash up a little better.

He grabbed another tshirt and hoodie to replace the ones Tony had just lost, and a cheap pair of gym shoes in Tony's size. He went by the produce and grabbed some apples, then found the crackers and grabbed some saltines. He found the coffee and a reusable filter, and even grabbed some sugar in case Tony decided to have some, too. He waited impatiently in line behind half a dozen other people, and after only moving one person forward in ten minutes, pulled out his phone. He called Tony, who answered rather subdued.

"Hey."

"Hey. Almost out of here- I think. Anything you need?"

"Just sleep."

"Okay. Love you." Jethro held his breath while he waited to hear the words back.

"Love you, too, Jethro," Tony said quietly, and Jethro's eyes closed, a small smile forming on his mouth as he heard real emotion behind the words.

"Be out soon."

"Okay. See ya then."

Tony pieced together his back up phone, and with trembling hands, trying desperately to ignore the blood under his nails, text Fornell an update via their code.

_C:3 P:4_

He pulled the battery back out of his phone as soon as he was sure the message sent, and packed it away again. He started staring out the front windshield, desperately trying to think of anything else besides the way Parleurs' blood had been so warm against his skin, and failed.

Jethro finally made it out to the car, and loaded everything he could into the trunk and back seat. Before he turned over the key in the ignition, he turned to look at his partner, his lover, his fiancé. Tony was staring blankly through the windshield in front of him, not even acknowledging Jethro's presence, and that worried him. The last time, Tony had clung to him for sanity, but this time, he was turning even more inward, and Jethro was afraid he'd lose him in there. He reached out and took Tony's hand, and though Tony didn't look at him, he squeezed Jethro's fingers back for the life of him. Jethro closed his eyes tightly.

_Just like everything else, I keep expecting this to be like the last time. Like the last time we had a relationship, and the last time we had to work together to bring down something big, the last time we had to torture a man together, but it's not like last time- not at all. I just hope I can be there for him in the ways he needs _this time._ I can't keep expecting everything to be like it was last time. We're not who we were when we were together last time, and we're never going to be. I need to stop making comparisons and see Tony as he is now, and our relationship for what it is now, and this situation for what it is now. _He took a deep breath and tried to free his hand so that he could start the car, but Tony wouldn't let him go, and so they sat in the parking lot together for an hour silently as Tony crushed his hand in his, and they tried to sort out where they were in their own minds.

*NCIS*NCIS*NCIS*

Fornell looked down at the phone in front of him and swallowed hard. It was the first text he had gotten from Tony since the case began. He saw the letters and numbers, and closed his eyes. He wished he could check on him. The 'four' was making him more than a little uncomfortable. He knew he couldn't chance it though. He'd just have to trust Jethro to take care of him, and that was going to take putting aside his own anger and remember that no matter what they'd been through, Tony trusted Jethro, and that's what mattered.

"You'd better take care of him, Jethro!" he warned aloud to thin air. "We need him back here!" He shook his head. "_I_ need him back here."


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you all for your feedback after the last chapter! Gotta say, I was nervous putting it up there. This one is gore-free other than a very brief memory. _

Chapter 14

Tim was behind the wheel still as they followed Tony and Gibbs. He saw them getting off the highway, and he winced as he realized no one was going to get off between them. He slowed down and tried to catch the yellow light as the guys went through the green at the end of the off-ramp. They watched them from their position at the light, but couldn't see much after a few seconds.

"We'll pull in at the station over here, and follow with their GPS tracker for now. When they stop, we'll decide how to watch them," Tim said as he pulled over into the gas station, and up along the side by the restrooms.

"I will be right back," Ziva said, pointing to the restroom door while they had the chance. Tim nodded, and got out to switch her seats so he could do the tracking while she drove.

The program showed their target working its way towards the bay, and the bug was able to pick up pieces of the conversation, but it wasn't revealing any helpful information. He wasn't expecting it to while they had a live body in the trunk. When the GPS transmitter finally showed that they had stopped, Tim wasn't that surprised to find they were at the old shipyard about five minutes away. It had been abandoned for years now, and people dropped their derelict and non-repairable vessels there. There were even a few abandoned military craft there if Tim recalled correctly.

He pulled up the basic satellite overview, and saw there were still a few structures on the property. The car appeared to be in one of the buildings, and Tim wished he had a more updated image to find out if they were secluded enough to pull in and spy on them. He thought about it and decided that since it was such an abandoned area, the sound of tires over gravel would give them away immediately.

Ziva climbed in, and Tim got her up to date on what he had found out. She nodded, and considered their situation.

"We cannot leave them without a lookout, McGee. We need to find a way to get close enough to the building to make sure they do not get ambushed."

Tim considered the run-ins they had when they guarded the Wallingford interrogation. They hadn't expected in-house issues, but they had run people in circles to distract them from locating Gibbs and Tony. The people that would be trying to locate them soon enough were not the kind to be easily diverted by some misdirection. It was precisely why they had followed them out on this limb to begin with.

"I agree, but I'm not sure how we can get close without giving ourselves away. We're going to have to get somewhat close, lock up and travel by foot the rest of the way, then watch from a distance."

"Then let's do that," Ziva said starting the car back up. McGee nodded and reached into the back seat for a Powerbar.

"Want one?" he asked.

Ziva accepted, and he handed her one before he turned back to the computer to find a good place to park. Without their government plates, he wasn't sure how close they would get away with parking, but he scanned the area anyway. He saw that there was some parking under a bridge not far from where the salvage yard was. He directed Ziva to the underpass, and they parked in a small lot that was unattended. From there, they locked down the car, and carried Tim's laptop bag with them in case they needed it.

After a half mile walk down the shore around a bend, they started coming across the docked and landed boats and ships. Tim took out his camera and pretended to be taking pictures, calming the nerves of the one dozy security guard in a tiny shack at the farthest edge of the salvage yard. He and Ziva shared an expression that shared little faith in the young man's ability to guard anything, and a while later, when Tim looked at the shack, pretending to be taking a picture of Ziva, he could tell the kid had already fallen back to sleep.

They continued down along the shore, and they finally came to an area that Tim recognized from the satellite feed. He put his hand out to stop Ziva, and she almost ran into it. He nodded down the shore towards the dilapidated gray structure with a peeling white roof still off in a distance. He looked around for any sign of a vehicle other than the silver sedan they had been tailing, but saw none, unless one counted the rusted out ships that were barely bobbing in the water.

Tim pointed to a crumbling stone wall, and they hustled up the hill to get behind it and out of plain sight. They crept up and peeked over the wall, and Tim turned on the laptop so they could listen to the bug. They could hear voices from it, but not what they were saying. They definitely heard the screaming, and it curled Tim's stomach violently, though Ziva had to hand it to him, he didn't hardly show it.

An hour later, the screaming started dying down, and then they heard a gunshot in stereo from the speakers and from the other side of the wall. They could only stare down at the ground, breathing heavily for a long few minutes. They both suddenly turned around to peek over the wall when they started hearing movement, and ten minutes later they watched the two men carry Parleurs out covered in a black bag with two gray blocks resting on what presumably was his stomach. They disappeared onto a boat for a minute, and then there was a splash before they came back empty-handed.

Both Tim and Ziva ducked down behind the wall, and realized the same thing at the same time. They pointed to the driveway and their position. The possibility of one of their friends looking in their rearview and seeing them ducked behind the wall when they pulled out was very real. Tim was gathering his stuff into his bag, leaving it unzipped with his headphones attached to the laptop still, listening for whatever he could hear from the bug.

Ziva pointed towards a pile of stones and then a bulldozer that was missing a tread, obviously out of commission. Tim understood and nodded, taking one more check over the wall before tearing off for the pile of rocks with Ziva on his heels. They peaked around the pile of stones, and Tim listened closely as he could to the headphones. There wasn't much being said, but Tim could barely make out the sound of water splattering on the ground and took that as a good sign that they had time to make it to the bulldozer, if not further down the shore.

He gently smacked Ziva's arm with the back of his hand, and they tore off towards the bulldozer, ducking behind it, now safely hidden from the drive while still being able to peek through the machinery's gears to see when Gibbs and Tony left.

Ziva watched for them through the cracks as Tim sat back and listened to the headphones, watching for anything that might start coming at them from the other direction.

"They're back in the car now," Tim said softly. "Meeting with someone named Dave on Saturday…" he whispered as he listened to the conversation between Gibbs and Tony. "And they are going to go camp and hide in Seneca Creek Park until then. Something about some girl named Samantha in Baltimore? Not really sure what that means."

Ziva looked a bit confused. "I never thought of Tony as much of a camper," she whispered.

"He wasn't, until he and Gibbs went together the summer they hooked up. I think Tony would probably do anything as long as Gibbs is with him." Tim's words were quiet as he began looking into who "Dave" could possibly be.

Ziva looked over to where the car was leaving. "I suspect you are right, McGee, considering that they are taking on such a dangerous task together. I had been trained a good part of my life to do what they just did. I learned early on to turn my emotions off when inflicting pain in order to gain crucial information for the safety of my people, my colleagues and myself. Gibbs was trained to take lives, but I have the feeling he rarely has had to employ such explicit techniques, and I _know_ that Tony had not until the Wallingford case. I believe that they require being together to do this."

She sat heavily on the ground next to him, close enough that their arms were touching. Tim looked up to see the sad blank stare on her face as she looked at the gravel.

"I don't think you could do it alone anymore either, Ziva," he said quietly, breaking her thoughts. She smiled sadly at him.

"I hope we do not have to find out," she said quietly. Tim nodded with an equally sad smile.

"We'll deal with that if the time comes. For now, they're laying low, so we should, too. There's a ton of places we can go stay until they're planning to meet up with this Dave, but we should probably head towards Baltimore if they are going to possibly go see this Samantha."

"I agree. I'll drive, you find us a place," Ziva said, getting up from her spot and stretching now that the coast was clear.

They got back to the car, and Tim pulled his headphones out of the laptop so they could both listen to the silence in the other car through its bug. He got a lot of white noise from the wind, but soon it stopped, and when he checked the GPS tracker, he saw that they had stopped for their supplies. They only heard one door open and shut, and they realized that it was probably Gibbs getting out. They exchanged a grim look, as well as the understanding that Tony was shutting down like last time.

Ziva pulled into a drive through to kill some time, and they ordered lunch. They didn't need to follow Tony and Gibbs, and they didn't want to pass them or be passed by them on the highway either and chance being recognized. They made their way down the road, and found a place to park and eat while they made plans.

"I think we should stay in Columbia," Tim said, looking over the map. "It's easy to get on the highway from there, and we'd be close to Baltimore, but if for some reason we needed to head back towards them or D.C., we wouldn't have to fight the traffic to get out of the city."

"That sounds agreeable," Ziva said.

"Do you want your own room?" he asked.

"We should probably share since there is a lot or researching to be done. No sense in separating now," Ziva said.

Tim pulled out his card and started making the arrangements to stay at the motel. Soon he was sitting back with a chicken nugget. After a few minutes of thought filled silence, they heard Tony's voice come through the PC, and it startled them both. They listened closely, and could tell he was having a one-sided conversation. Then they heard it.

"_Love you, too, Jethro."_

They both turned to each other in shock. Ziva's mouth was hanging open, and Tim had stopped chewing his mouthful of nugget. Their eyes were wide, and Tim's cheeks were turning pink. The phone call only lasted another moment, and then the silence was deafening. Ziva watched Tim's eyes as he finally swallowed what he'd been chewing. She cleared her throat, and it broke the spell. Tim reached for his drink to help wash down his nugget.

"I guess we now have confirmation that they are indeed back together," Ziva said, thoughtfully chewing a fry as she stared out the window.

Tim nodded. They were silent for another long couple of minutes, and then Tim reached down and muted his computer. Ziva saw, and he started shaking his head.

"I can't do it right now. I can't listen to them. I feel like I'm completely invading the privacy of one of my best friends and my boss. I can't listen to them go through the aftermath of… of… of what they just did, together as they try to deal with all that. It's all recording. If there's any reason for us to pull it up later on, we can, but right now, I think they just need to be alone, and they can't do that if we're listening. I'm s-" Ziva's hand on his arm cut him off.

"McGee, it is okay. I understand, and I too wish to give them the privacy they need." Tim closed his eyes, and nodded with a sigh.

"Let's go get checked into our hotel," he said, slipping his seatbelt on. "We can take a different way there so we won't have to worry about crossing their path. If I see that they are getting on the same highway that we are, we'll wait until they approach, get off the next exit, and let them pass us." Ziva nodded her approval as she tossed her bag of trash into the back seat and started the car.

"A shower and some real sleep sound wonderful right about now," she said, eager to get back on the road.

"Definitely," Tim agreed, and then he started giving her directions to the hotel.

-NCISNCISNCISNCIS-

Gibbs drove through the park, all the way to the furthest edge of the campgrounds. The ranger at the visitor's center warned him that it was expected to get pretty chilly that night, so there wasn't anyone else at any of the sites that they passed, and they were both grateful.

They met at the trunk where Gibbs had loaded their supplies, and Gibbs handed Tony the bucket and the towels. "There's a stream through those woods on the left about a quarter mile. If you wanna bring the water back first and heat it, I'll have a fire going soon."

Tony nodded, taking in the soft and tender way Jethro spoke to him, almost as if though he was afraid to spook him and send him running or cowering.

"Thanks, Jethro," he said just as softly, and Jethro watched Tony's back retreat into the woods until he couldn't see him anymore. He was able to hear him a little while beyond when he could see him, the fallen leaves crunching under his feet.

Jethro went straight to work on laying the fire in the round pit, gathering what he could find. There weren't too many thick branches around on the edges of their site, and he knew that after he got the first wave going, he would have to go searching for something more substantial to carry the blaze. He pulled out the pan and laid it next to the fire, then he got to work on the tent. He had it set up in a matter of minutes. It didn't take much effort, and everything popped into place easily. He tied it down, tossed the sleeping bags into it with their duffels, and went in search of the wood they would need for the night.

When he came back, Tony was sitting next to the fire with one of the throw blankets Jethro had picked up wrapped around him, a towel over his head. Jethro could tell right away that Tony had actually gotten into the stream to wash whatever he needed to off his body. Jethro dumped the wood near the small blaze, and picked up a couple of much longer sticks. He pushed them into the ground on each side of the fire, and then laid another thick branch across them at their forks. Tony kept staring into the flames the entire time, never once looking up at Jethro.

Jethro felt his heart breaking, and he knew that soon, he would feel just as empty as the man in front of him. He had wondered how much of his own difficulty recovering last time had been what they had actually done, or what he had witnessed in Tony as he had tortured Wallingford and then broken down after the release of the captives. He went back to the trunk and lifted the spare tire, removing the blood-soaked clothing that was hidden in a bag there. He took them over to the fire and hung them over the makeshift spit to dry so they could burn them. The smell wasn't nearly as hard to bear when the blood wasn't wet and smoky, as they had found out while burning their clothes in the fireplace after their last experience.

Jethro sat down on the ground behind Tony, scooting forward and pulling the numb and shivering man back against his chest. He threw the other throw blanket around Tony's torso and thighs, and he nestled his chin in the crook of Tony's neck as the younger man leaned back to rest his head on Jethro's shoulder.

After a long hour of just sitting there, watching the fire, Jethro heard Tony sigh heavily. He realized that Tony's shivering had stopped, and he was grateful. That reminded him that he had to feed the fire though, so he gently kissed Tony's temple, and got to his feet. He laid more wood strategically on the fire to let it burn warm, and ran a finger out to check the dampness of the clothes. They were almost completely dry, so he reached to take the t-shirt down, knowing it would burn the fastest.

Tony suddenly was on his feet, taking the shirt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife, tearing the shirt into strips and carefully feeding them into the fire silently. Jethro watched in similar silence next to him, swallowing hard at the sudden ferocity he saw in Tony's eyes. They were darker than normal, a deep evergreen instead of the emeralds he had come to know them as. He wasn't sure how to feel. Part of him was elated that Tony was taking this action to be a part of the cleansing of their sins, but at the same time, he wasn't sure what cold emotions were burning in his lover's eyes. Was he going numb on him? Detaching to move forward with their operation? If he detached too much, would he still be his Tony when all was said and done? He knew that Tony had changed a lot in the past two years, but he wasn't sure he would like a detached Tony at all, and the idea of losing the man next to him to this case was not acceptable.

He moved behind Tony and wrapped his arms around his waist, watching over his shoulder as Tony fed the last pieces of the tee into the fire. Tony's hands wrapped around his, and though Jethro felt the slight tremble in them, the deep sigh Tony breathed and the way he melted back into the embrace made Jethro's eyes close in relief.

"They won't win, Jethro," Tony said quietly. "They won't take my mind, they won't take my soul, and they won't take my life away from me. I have too much to look forward to."

Jethro's smile grew gradually until it was to his eyes. It was then that he knew that his pain after Wallingford was both his own pain and Tony's, a combination of worry that he'd gone too far and that he'd taken Tony with him. The guilt, the worry, the pain, the damnation had all taken its toll on him last time, and he knew that it would again, but that with Tony by his side, he'd come out the other end of this dark tunnel human and still worthy of love. Tony's determination had stirred something inside him, something that felt a drive to move _now_, to go forward with the case. He knew it wasn't possible, but he was ready for what would happen next.

Tony felt Jethro's arms around him as he stripped the last bit of cloth into two and tossed it into the small inferno. The sudden determination inside of him tripled, and he rested his hands securely against Jethro's, letting the strength in them feed his own, and he felt himself becoming more and more grounded. He sighed heavily, and the near rage he had in him balanced back out into a passion to take care of himself and his case.

The mantra questions ran through his head as he felt the world in an almost surreal moment, Jethro around him, holding him tightly, the warm fire in front of him, and the cool fall breeze coming at his side. He knew that he was doing exactly what he needed to be doing at that moment.

To not do his job, especially at such a crucial point in the history of national security, would be to neglect a big part of him.

He would never be able to sit back and watch idly as someone else took the responsibility to do something that he knew in his heart of hearts was his job to do. If they had lost Ja'Rell or Pammy to this nutcase, he'd spend the rest of his life back in the bottle, blaming himself. Offering to leave and take over the case was what was healthiest for him, what was right, and the fact that Jethro was right there with him made it feel natural; natural to be burning blood-soaked clothes over a fire in the woods as he hid out from the mafia after killing one of their runners for information.

He turned around in Jethro's arms. He stared into his eyes, and took in their exhaustion. He took Jethro's face in his hands, slowly tracing his bottom lip with his thumb, and leaned in to kiss him gently, a tongue-less, soft, tender kiss that made both men close their eyes and lean against one another. Tony's hands slid down to Jethro's hands, and twined their fingers together. The kiss repeated once, and then Tony pulled back to look into those eyes again.

"Let's finish burning these and get something warm to drink in us. I saw the coffee. Let's see what we can do with it." Jethro nodded and watched Tony turn to hand him the sweatshirt to hold while he shredded it. Pretty soon, they had fed the entire thing into the fire, and Jethro was making them some coffee.

They sat side by side, leaning against each other while they stared into the fire. For a long while, Jethro kept glancing at Tony to make sure that he was still present in the moment and not slipping away again. A while longer though, and Tony's hand was rubbing his neck as he snapped out of his own memory of the way Tony had looked with the blood squirting up from the man's thigh as he plunged an icepick into it, and then the close-range gun shot.

He shuddered hard and he tried to blame the warmth of Tony's hands on the back of his chilled neck, but in reality, he knew what it was.

Tony broke up the fire some, and then reached his hand down to Jethro who took it. The sun had long since set, and they were both exhausted. They gathered up everything but the pan, and secured it either in the trunk of the car or the tent, and then crawled in together.

Jethro immediately began unzipping the sleeping bags and zipping them back together to make a king-sized sleeping bag they could both fit into. Tony rolled the throw blankets up, and they each used one as a pillow after managing their way into the sleeping bag. Their legs were tangled and their arms were around each other, holding each other tightly, as if letting go of one another would mean letting go of their sanity.

Tony rested his hand flat on Jethro's back so he could feel the reassuring thump, thump, thump of his heart beating. Jethro fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted physically and mentally. Tony contemplated the sure sign of life under his hand for the next half an hour, reminding himself that life still flowed through Jethro, and that meant life still flowed through him, and that if they weren't dead yet, they were still on the right path. He gently kissed Jethro's temple and finally closed his eyes, blocking out the sounds of nature around him, the sounds of the breeze, and got lost in the warm beat against his hand. He fell asleep and dreamed of life.

NCIS—NCIS—NCIS—NCIS—NCIS

Tim checked into the hotel for them as Ziva came in with her bag and some of their other stuff. Tim smiled at her, and she smiled at him, giving the woman at the front desk the impression that they were a couple. He handed Ziva a room key, and they walked away from the desk together towards the elevator. Once they were in the allusion of safety the elevator provided them, they whispered.

"Did you get the cameras mounted?" Tim asked.

"Yes. One to the front and left, and one to the rear and right. If anyone tries to get near the vehicle, we will know."

"I honestly don't think we have anything to worry about yet," he whispered as they made their way into the hallway. At the end of the hall, he unlocked the door to their room and flipped on the light switch. A typical hotel room with two double beds and a TV appeared from the shadows, and they immediately secured the room. Tim pulled out his bug detector, and Ziva drew the curtains. He checked and found no signs of any signals transmitting. He set three small devices the size of a cookie in various places around the room that would interfere with any kind of bugs or sound devices.

"Like I was saying," he continued, sitting at the end of one of the beds. "I don't think we have anything to worry about yet. Parleurs won't really turn up missing until he skips on his shift tonight, _if_ he has one, and he won't even start being tracked until tomorrow. Gibbs and Tony know how to throw off a scent, so there are probably things at the scene that would make them even less likely to be followed, which means we're even further out of the loop."

Ziva nodded in agreement, and sat down next to him on the bed. "You are more worried about Tony or Gibbs finding us than the enemy."

"I'm pretty sure if they found us following them, we'd A) Already know about it, and B) Be declared the enemy." Tim looked at Ziva with wide serious eyes, and she shrugged.

"Again, probably true, unless they felt that it would blow their cover to confront us, in that case, we can expect to be strung up by our toenails and receive a low dose of whatever Parleurs received earlier when this is all over." Ziva swooped up off the bed with a slight smirk, and grabbed her bag. "I am going to shower."

"I think I'll order some food. Want anything?" he asked.

"What are you getting?"

"Room service. Trying not to bring too much in from the outside for the time being," he said as he flipped through the menu. Ziva came over and stood behind him with her bag over her shoulder as she read the menu. She leaned in to get a better look at the description of something, and shook her head.

"I believe I will take the chicken alfredo, and just in case it is horrible, a grilled cheese sandwich."

"Got it," Tim said before reaching for the phone between their beds. He had the order placed and was working on his laptop before Ziva came back out of the bathroom. "I have a couple of options on who this Dave guy is," he announced.

"Oh?" Ziva said, pulling up the ottoman to sit next to Tim.

"Yeah. There's three real candidates so far, but this one is looking really good. He's a cousin of Frankie Giovanni. His last name is Lambrusco, and he's on the watch list for New York, Baltimore, D.C., Atlantic City- you name it. He's always just far enough out of reach with bought alibis to be able to pin down, and with a relationship like that to the Giovannis, he's most definitely our guy. There is a slight possibility it could be Dave Peals, a small-time distributor that was recently released for violating parole after being put in for selling three years ago. He looks strung out in his most recent mug-shot though, and he's probably using more than he's selling, so he's lucky he hasn't been offed yet.

"The other is Dave Macke, who happened to be the driver for TBS Transportation on two busts for shipments he was sent into the city with that happened to have smuggled narcs on-board inside of legit merchandise. He was cleared of both charges, and he quit working for TBS. He's now a UPS driver with a squeaky clean driving and criminal record. He's from Kansas, and he actually passed out on scene the second time it happened to him in disbelief. I seriously doubt he's the one, but with some of the crazy stuff we've seen, you just never know."

Ziva shook her head, smiling at the poor fate of Mr. Macke, and was about to say something in regards to it when the door was rapped on.

"Coming," Tim said, going to the door and taking the tray of food, slipping the man a few singles in exchange.

The two of them ate while sitting at the computer, going over the information that they were pulling for Lambrusco. There were phone records and an extensive financials record. Tim finally yawned so wide that Ziva thought he was going to swallow the fist he held up to his face to block it.

"McGee, we need to rest," she encouraged softly. "We will most likely be trapped in here all day tomorrow with plenty of time to work on this. Let's go to sleep."

He acquiesced, and closed down the laptop, then grabbed his stuff and headed for the bathroom to change. He looked at himself in the mirror as he slowly splashed water on his face. He looked exhausted, but there was a shine to his eyes he wasn't used to. He realized that under the fear of the case, the very real possibility that he wouldn't have a job when he got back to the office, and the concern he had for the men he was tracking, he was feeling more confident and empowered than he ever had before.

Ziva had been following his lead, entrusting him and his instructions to be the safest for them both, as well as for Tony and Gibbs, and he was especially proud of hacking into the Black Clearance files. He was also very proud that so far, both his and Ziva's identities were holding up flawlessly. He hadn't been at the project too long when Gibbs and Tony had assumed their identities during the Wallingford case, and they only had a couple of days and a few reasons to really test those identities out. Hell, Tony's had even been salvageable in case he needed it again. His identity as Tom was holding strong, and he was elated.

_I guess this is what being an SFA means for me,_ he thought to himself, looking back into the bright gray-green eyes.

NCIS*NCIS*NCIS

Pammy smiled at Ja'Rell as he said goodnight and waved. She was heading to her car, her head pounding with exhaustion. It didn't take long for her to get back to the small apartment she had broken down and rented her first month here. It wasn't in the best neighborhood, but it was home for now.

"Home. I can't wait to be home," she said.

"Home is wherever you are."

The voice made her smile, and she sighed happily.

"I mean _California. _I don't know how people live out here! It's miserable being surrounded by people wrapped up in one political game that's part of another and another, like a Russian nesting doll of lies and masks. One day they're this, next day they're this, and the next they're something else entirely. It's a nightmare, and it makes me wonder if everyone is like that."

"Ja'Rell's not."

"Yeah, but Ja'Rell can fit in anywhere and still be himself. I don't feel like I can here, and it's grating on me. He seems to be able to maintain his integrity in this chaotic lunacy, and I'm not ashamed to say that I'm jealous as hell," Pammy admitted.

"You're doing great. You're really not giving yourself enough credit."

"You're biased," Pammy said with a smile.

"One of us has to be! You deserve someone who is going to stick up _to_ you and _for_ you. You're the only one that's thinking you don't fit in. Why didn't you just ask Ja'Rell to hang out with you tonight?"

"Please! He has much better things to do than hang out with me, and mope about being stuck in this place."

"Like what?"

When Pammy couldn't answer, she put a spoonful of cereal in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, hoping that if she had her mouth full, she wouldn't have to answer the question, even to herself.


	15. Chapter 15

_This one is a long one! :) Enjoy!_

Chapter 15

Tony woke up the next morning with a stiff back from sleeping on the ground. Jethro was still asleep, and Tony noticed that neither of them had moved all night. The sun was already out and high overhead as he looked through the thin tent material, and their warm bodies pressed together under the weight of the sleeping bags had him sweating.

He reached over Jethro and pulled the zipper to free them from their personal sauna. He was able to uncover most of Jethro and half of himself, which made things much more bearable, and had the added benefit of making Jethro snuggle closer to him in the sudden chill.

Stiff back forgotten, Tony wrapped his arms around Jethro and rolled so that the older man lay across his chest. Jethro nuzzled him, and Tony ran his fingers through Jethro's hair. He began going through the breathing exercises he had learned long ago to assist him while undercover. He had learned to apply them as well to those moments when memories of Wallingford crept up. Now, with memories of Parleurs were trying to creep in, he figured they would be helpful. He concentrated on the sound of his breath and Jethro's, putting them in sync with one another, and matching the strokes through Jethro's hair with them.

After about twenty minutes like that, Tony realized that Jethro was going to need some more sleep, and he understood why. He gently extracted himself from him, and wiggled his way out of the sleeping bag, covering the man back over. He fiddled in their bags for a few things he thought he might need, and then got both his laptop bag and the laptop they had stolen from Parleurs. He left it all in the backseat of the car while he went to relieve himself in the outhouse a few sites over.

Now that October was therem and fall was firmly settled in around them, the public restrooms were closed. He ached for a hot shower and wondered if he could talk Jethro into finding a crappy motel that night, but when he came out of the outhouse and took in the world around him, he realized that the quiet serenity the park offered him right then wasn't just optional for him, but required. He imagined it was doubly so for Jethro, and as he climbed into the car to plug in the laptop to the car charger, he resolved to stay there as long as they could.

He got into Parleurs' laptop and started snooping around. The files he found didn't surprise him. Other than a substantial music and porn collection, there were a bunch of photos with friends, and a pretty petite brunette that he had figured out pretty quickly was Samantha. She seemed to be in her early to mid-twenties, and he wondered if she wasn't in a crew herself with the odd tattoo on her hand.

The picture of the two of them hugging got him in the gut, and he cleared his throat. He tried not to think about the man he had sliced up having feelings like love and protective instincts. He forced himself back to the current situation. If Samantha was his half-sister, she might have a different last name. He plugged his aircard into the laptop to get into the guy's email. He sifted through it until he found Samantha's information, and found that she actually had her mother's maiden name, Hittanda. He started researching her.

Samantha had been in juvy for something at one point, though he hadn't bothered to look further into that. She had no adult rap sheet, but he found out she was twenty-two, that she lived in the Oliver area, and worked at Sinai hospital. He found her Twitter account, and muddled through it. She had a bit of an attitude, but had a responsible head on her shoulders. He again had to swallow the reality of what he and Jethro had had to do. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to protect her when he knew he'd already taken her brother from her. He thought about contacts he had in Baltimore still, and knew that he couldn't chance getting any of his former colleagues involved after everything that had gone down when Danny died.

He rolled the idea around in his head, and he found the perfect solution. He needed to get to Baltimore. He knew that if he showed up now Randall would be on shift. The man never slept, and he smiled as he thought about his own non-sleeper passed out in the tent. He'd have to wait until that evening when Randall would be off work. He transferred the photo of Parleurs' dead body to his own laptop, and password protected it three files deep. He then searched in his laptop bag for the cable he needed, and connected the two laptops to create a back-up of Parleurs' hard drive on his own.

As he left the laptops sitting in the front seat of the car to do what they had to do, he got a handful of water bottles from the back seat, and found the coffee filter Jethro had the night before tossed in the bag with the sugar. He laid his goods next to the fire pit, and then went in search of some smaller sticks to use as kindling. He couldn't help the small smile of pride when he got the fire to catch the first time. He took the stick that the clothes had been hanging from and hung the campfire pot from it. He started opening bottles of water, and pouring them into the pot to boil. He went back to the car and rummaged some more to find the thermoses. The jerky under them, and he realized quickly that even with his herculean effort to break out of the horrified fog he had been in the night before, he still couldn't bear the idea of eating anything.

"Coffee's fine for now," he muttered to himself, going through the rest of the bags to see what else Jethro had bought. He raised an eyebrow at the fishing pole a second, and then realized it was to keep up appearances. Taking the thermoses and the bottle of vitamins back to the fire, he worked the coffee open and filled the filter before sitting it over one of the thermoses. He tilted the pot to pour over it slowly, letting it drip through the grounds a few ounces at a time. He repeated the action over the other thermos, and by time it was filled, Jethro had begun shuffling around in the tent.

Tony loaded some sugar into his coffee, but not much, the idea of a sweet brew making him a bit queasy. He watched as Jethro came out of the tent, his hair sticking up at an odd angle, looking around like a wild animal before standing up straight and stretching the life back into his limbs. Tony let his eyes roam down Jethro's body. Even in a sweatshirt and jeans he looked delicious, though at the moment, Tony's mind was more interested in the idea of snuggling up in their comfortable clothes in front of a winter fire than getting Jethro naked.

Jethro's eyes met Tony's, and he moved to come sit by the fire with him. Tony held up the second thermos, and Jethro took it with a small smile.

"I swear, Jethro," he said with a matching smile. "It doesn't matter where we are. If coffee is brewing within a 500 yard radius, you wake up." Tony lifted the little lid that doubled as a cup to his lips, and started sipping slowly on the extremely hot liquid. Jethro sucked a cup down without hesitation. He set the thermos on the ground next to Tony, and reached over to kiss him quickly before getting up and making his way off towards the outhouse.

Tony got to his feet as well, and went to check on the data backup. He watched for a moment while the last few percent were copied over, and heard Jethro coming towards him down the gravel drive. He turned around to make sure it was only him, and then turned back to the computer. He unplugged the laptops from each other, and turned Parleurs' off. He then took his own back to the fire with him. Jethro went right back to the thermos, and sat down on the ground by Tony, looking at the screen.

"What's the plan?" he asked, freezing as he realized he had just deferred to Tony so easily. It made him smile to himself as he took a drink of his coffee. _This is gonna work,_ he thought to himself happily, and listened as Tony told him that he'd backed up the data, other than the music and porn, and found some information about Samantha.

"I have a contact in Baltimore I should go see tonight. He's a former plant in La Cosa Nostra. He had to retire from the force, otherwise the guy would probably still be in deep. He was actually NYPD, but moved to Baltimore to stay safe. He did some consult stuff on a piece I was dealing with, and we'd gotten along fairly well. Kept his number, and was glad I did. He spends his time now working security in high schools in the rougher parts or town. Guess there are some habits that are just too hard to break," Tony said, shooting Jethro a smile and thinking about what Jethro was going to do when he retired. He saw the odd look on Jethro's face, and closed the lid to his laptop, turning towards his lover.

"What's on your mind?" Jethro asked.

"I was actually wondering what you were thinking about just now. You had this look on your face that I'm not sure how to translate."

Jethro smiled a bit sheepishly, and took a drink of his coffee as he tried to decide how to word it. "I was thinking that my whole thought process is starting to shift. Shift back to what it was like when we were together, and changing so that your decisions weigh heavily on my actions. I think it's a good thing."

Tony's eyes were a little wide with how taken aback he was by Jethro's honesty. Jethro stared back into his coffee with his shy smile again, and then tipped it back, emptying it.

"As long as those decisions are balanced and stay balanced, then I think so too." Tony took a drink of his coffee as he stared at Jethro. He loved when Jethro got that almost embarrassed, timid look. His blue eyes got brighter, his smile was incredibly intimate, and it was a moment of honesty that he knew he was privileged to be a part of. He decided to test the waters again about the other topic he was breaching.

"So, what do you want to do when you retire?" he asked.

Jethro's look changed instantly to a thoughtful man considering the future.

"I don't know. Until the other day, I kind of just wanted to go haul up in the cabin, but now, there's so much more." Jethro's voice had gone rough and quiet, and he turned his gaze on Tony's eyes, and Tony nodded with a small smile. "Tony, I don't know why I'm lucky enough to have another chance at happiness with you, but even hiding in the damn woods after torturing and killing a man, I'm happier than I have been at any point over the past twenty-one months. Being without you, being alone…" He shook his head slowly. "Being that alone is enough to make anyone give up. Being with you is enough to make me feel like I can handle anything. As long as I know I've got you, I've got everything. I have a future, where before, I had an end."

Tony swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest. In a matter of two minutes he had gone from feeling elated and loved to feeling like his world was about to bottom out. Hearing Jethro sounding so final, so miserable, had hit a nerve. He knew that feeling. It was the, nothing-else-matters-now feeling, and he'd barely side-skirted doing something about it a few times by passing out from drinking too much. Granted, it probably wouldn't have gotten that bad if he hadn't been drinking bourbon to remind him of Jethro in the first place. Bourbon had a tendency to make him emotional.

He reached out for Jethro's hand, and his fingers were wrapped up in Jethro's immediately as the man reached back for it eagerly, understanding that look in Tony's eyes, and feeling an urgency to touch him.

Tony felt a certain calm wash over him as he watched the pain cross Jethro's eyes, and he slowly ran his thumb across the back of Jethro's hand. He smiled softly at Jethro, and considered the warm feeling settling in his chest. Meghan's voice suddenly drifted through his head, a memory of one of his earlier sessions.

_You've been holding on to this pain for a long time now, Tony, and it's eating you alive. The drinking numbed it for a while, making it bearable, and now that you have found the strength to stop drinking, you're going to have to find another way to deal with it. It is simply never going to go away until you confront what happened, forgive yourself, forgive Gibbs, and move on. _

"Jethro," Tony said quietly, suddenly understanding what she meant. "You're not the only person at fault here. Yeah, you were an idiot. You should have talked to me before you decided for us both, but I should have talked to you in Abby's lab, or at least before I left. I knew even then that we had our insecurities, after all of the talks we had been having about moving in together, I knew, but I was so hurt that I shut down. You may have had the deer in the headlights reaction, but I didn't exactly reach out to try to make amends either. We were both stubborn fools. I have to say though, in my defense, I got that from working with you for so long." That made both of them chuckle faintly. "Jethro, I want to move forward. I want to take all of the crap we've learned from this, and I want to move forward. I want us taking on life together in whatever way we decide to do it, in whatever ways make us happy."

Jethro lifted Tony's hand to his lips in an oddly sweet gesture. "I want that too, Tony," he whispered.

"Stop beating yourself up, Jethro. I think this is what forgiveness looks like." Tony saw that shy smile come over Jethro again, and he leaned in with one of his own, and kissed the older man softly. Jethro pulled him back on top of him and tumbled to the ground, forgetting about his coffee.

They laid on top of one another, kissing gently at first. There was warmth slowly building in their chests and torsos as they shared body heat next to the small fire, and that warmth soon began soothing them. They kept kissing, pulling back to look at each other's eyes from time to time, and Tony felt something deep within him healing. This wasn't about sex, it was about reconnecting, and one look in Jethro's eyes told him that his lover was feeling the same thing. This was about simply being together and finding each other again.

An hour later, lips swollen and a sharp ache in Jethro's back from laying on uneven ground, they finally rolled off of each other and sat up. Jethro smiled a bright, broad smile and reached up to pick a crumbled leaf out of Tony's hair in pieces. Tony had a matching smile for him, and reached for his thermos, pouring another small cup of coffee and opening the vitamins. He handed one to Jethro, who popped it in his mouth and took a swig of coffee straight from his thermos.

"So, your contact," Jethro began, then cleared his throat and took another drink.

"My contact. I would have to make contact with him to confirm making contact. I'm not sure what the best way to do that would be. I'm thinking the back-up phone that Tobias gave me in case I needed to get in touch with my sponsor would be the best way. I don't want anything that could possibly tie him back to Gaylord, and I am pretty sure the back-up cell is in Fornell's name. It doesn't have the FBI phone number sticker on the back we usually use."

Jethro looked at Tony as he talked, and the mention of Fornell twisted his gut, though not as bad as it had been.

"I'm really glad Tobias has been so supportive of you. You may forgive me, but I don't think he ever will. That's one I'll have to live with."

"Give him time, Jethro. Once he sees I'm happy again, and once he knows you're not trying to steal me away from him- professionally that is- I'm sure he'll come around."

Jethro grunted, and continued downing his coffee.

"You never really answered the retirement question," Tony said.

"Well, haven't had time to really give it much thought. I wouldn't want to travel without you, and you have a while yet before you can retire, if you would even want to. There's not really anywhere I'm dying to go, anyway. I'll definitely make sure you use your vacation time, though," Jethro said with a smirk.

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, we were getting pretty good at that, weren't we?" he said, thinking of their time in Seneca State Park the summer they had gotten together. He looked around at the baring trees and their remaining orange and yellow leaves. It was almost Halloween, and soon there would be nothing there to sway in the breeze.

"I'd like to go visit Leyla and Amira more though. She's still at the Woman's Center in Chicago, and Amira is getting big. They sent me a card recently with some pictures in it. She's in school now, and doing well."

Tony smiled brightly at the idea of Jethro with the little girl. He loved watching them together. He had often wondered if it was what Jethro was like with Kelly, but he had never asked or brought up the correlation. He just watched happily. He had begun to feel like they were his family, too.

When Layla was offered the position at the Woman's Center, she had to take it. It was exactly what she had been working so hard toward, and the opportunity was not to be wasted. The fact that she was still there was a good sign, and he was happy for her.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll build another boat. A bigger one with room for four so we can all go out on the coast together. I know there's a list of things I'd like to get done around the house. There's time to plan. It's not gonna happen right away. I still have a lot of vacation time I have to blow through, so I see another year probably before I'm completely out of there." Tony nodded, satisfied with the answer, but Jethro continued talking as he stared off into the woods around him.

"It'll be nice though. No more waking up in the middle of the night to trudge out into the cold to stare at someone's bright idea of revenge or secret keeping. No more hospital runs to interview victims of heinous crimes. No more breakroom sludge that tries to pass for coffee. No more hunting down the last few people who owe me favors. Oh, and no more playing politics!" He scoffed and smiled mirthlessly. "Damned politics…" he said under his breath while shaking his head and staring into the fire.

"Well, you'll still probably get woken up in the middle of the night, but you won't have to leave. And I'll do my best to keep you from having to come interview me in the hospital about what stupid thing I've done now to land myself there. Your coffee is already sludge most of the time because you leave it on the burner for hours, and as far as politics? Well, I'm thinking we'll still be working on some of those favors while we negotiate some bedroom politics," Tony said with a leer and a wink, making Jethro chuckle.

They grew silent for a while, and then Jethro's voice was wistful and quiet as he spoke again. "I'm going to miss it." Tony nodded, but didn't say anything. "It's been my entire life."

Tony stayed silent.

"At least since the girls died. It's been _our_ entire life together," Jethro continued softly, speaking more to the wind as he thought.

"A lot happened there that had nothing to do with the job, Jethro. You've got an entire family built of the people you've surrounded yourself with while at NCIS, and that doesn't stop just because you don't work in the same building with them anymore." Jethro nodded, but he didn't look at Tony. "What's wrong, Jethro?"

"I've been such an ass to them the past two years. I don't know if we'll ever be back to the way things were. Did you hear that McGee yelled at me the other day?" he asked, finally turning to look at Tony.

Tony's eyes went wide. "What?" he asked.

"Yeah. After you stormed out of the scene the other day, he and Ziva came upstairs to talk to me. I let them know that I wasn't in the mood, and McGee laid into me. Called me out pretty good. Told me that it was time to get my head in the game and fix things before I-" he stopped and stared back into the fire.

"Before you what?" Tony asked, knowing his tone was defensive.

"Before I couldn't," Jethro said, shaking his head a little. "Before I couldn't fix them. I was so mad when Vance went over me and appointed him SFA. I tried to remember he hadn't asked for it, that he didn't want it, and I tried my damnedest not to take it out on him that he wasn't you, but I didn't make his job any easier either. He's actually done surprisingly well for doing it all on his own." Jethro let his head fall back and closed his eyes. "God, I really am an asshole."

"You'll fix it, Jethro. If he cared enough to call you on your crap, then he's not looking to back out of your life anytime soon. I told you, no matter how pissed they may have been with you, none of them ever stopped caring about you."

"I'll just have to figure out how," he said with a solemn but determined nod.

"_We'll_ figure out how," Tony corrected, trying to remind him that he's not alone anymore with those kinds of things.

"I think I need to figure that one out alone. You're welcome to be there for the fallout," Jethro said sardonically with a chuckle and shrug.

Tony pushed on Jethro's thigh with his foot. "That's not how this works. Nothing's alone anymore."

Jethro raised an eyebrow. "You're not the one he's mad at, Tony."

"So?"

"You're impossible," Jethro groaned.

"Yeah, but that's why you love me," Tony said with a large mocking smile, which made Jethro smile and roll his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah."

NCIS**NCIS**NCIS

McGee suddenly jumped when he got the alert to his phone that the GPS tracker they'd put on Gibbs' and Tony's car was moving. He switched over to the program on his laptop, and brought it up.

"Looks like they're on the move!" he announced to Ziva who was already starting to throw her stuff together. Tim started packing up as well around the room, glancing at the screen every few seconds to see the progress the little blue dot was making along the map. "Appears they're making their way towards Baltimore. They just got on the highway near the park."

The laptop was put on standby, and Tim switched to the tracker app on his phone to watch the map. They gathered up what they could in a quick minute to keep housekeeping from being too pissed at them, and Ziva laid a ten across her pillow in hopes it would alleviate some of the annoyance at how the place was being left. They both took a deep breath at the door and composed themselves, bags over their shoulders as they stepped into the hallway. They headed down the stairs towards the lobby to check out calmly, giving nothing away.

The clerk appeared to barely be out of high school, and almost obnoxiously sweet. She was concerned they were leaving because they were unhappy with their room, but Tim was quick to reassure her that their departure had nothing to do with their service, and alluded to something on their schedule changing suddenly. That seemed to appease her, and Ziva told him she would be waiting at the car as he waited for his receipt to print. He nodded with a smile.

"Forgetting something?" he asked, and held out the keys for her. She smiled and took the keys, then reached up and kissed Tim on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door. Tim looked after her, trying to hide the surprise. He knew it was part of the front they were putting up, but he hadn't been expecting it. The girl behind the desk was gushing as he turned to sign the receipt.

"You guys are so cute together!" she said quietly, looking at the door at where Ziva had just disappeared. Tim turned bright red, and handed the signed copy back to the girl with a thanks. He waved at her as he turned to walk out of the hotel, trying not to laugh. He put his stuff in the back seat, then climbed into the front seat with his laptop bag. As soon as his door was shut, Ziva was in drive and pulling out onto the road. Just as soon, Tim was bursting out laughing.

"The girl at the counter said we're cute together," he informed her with a smirk.

"Well, of course! How could we not be?" she said with an elfish humor to her expression that made Tim smile broadly. "What is it that Tony calls me? The ninja-assassin? What kind of ninja-assassin goes somewhere without her trustworthy computer genius, hacker companion? And what kind of techie hacker guru goes after the mafia without their own personal former-Israeli ninja-assassin? It just would not set right with the universe, I am positive."

Tim chuckled and pulled out the laptop, checking to make sure Gibbs and Tony were still on course. They were still Baltimore bound, and so that's where they were headed as well. He remembered the bug program, and he turned the volume back up. They had checked in on it a few times, but they were unable to hear much, and they had decided to just mute it unless they were driving. Now, Tim patched it into the car's stereo system, and they listened to it as they drove.

There were pieces of information coming at them here and there that he tried to use to search by, but he wasn't getting anywhere. He had cross-referenced Parleurs with Samantha the night before, and found out that she was his half-sister. However, from what he could find, she didn't appear to be into any of the stuff her half-brother had been into. There were some pictures of them together on her different social media outlets, but they were simply photos of a close brother and sister.

Ziva drove quickly, unsure of when the highway were on would intersect and bring them in alignment with Tony and Gibbs, but Tim was so busy working on unraveling what they were talking about that she decided to wait to ask. She listened instead to the two men talking through the speakers. It was faint under the woosh of wind that flowed over it, and so far all she had been able to make out was that they were meeting a contact.

Tim shook his head. He was getting nothing. He was trying to be extremely careful with his searches so that he didn't trip any alarms, so he couldn't do some of the things he would normally do. Those backdoor channels would be needed as they moved forward, but for now, he had to avoid temptation and keep from being cut off from them. He looked back at the GPS.

"They're about ten minutes ahead of us on this highway," he said as Ziva merged. She nodded.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"We need to be near enough to them that we're there if they need us, but no so close that they could cross our paths easily. Stay on this course until we see where they get off."

Ziva nodded again and looked towards the laptop a moment.

"About how fast are they driving?" she asked.

Tim's head tilted to the side the slightest as he ran the math, but it only took a couple of seconds to process what was being asked and he looked back up at her. "Gibbs is definitely driving. They're going about 85," he said, raising an eyebrow at her as he grabbed for the handle above his door. Ziva smirked as she laid on the gas, and pushed forward down the highway.

NCIS—NCIS—NCIS—NCIS

Tony directed Jethro of where to pull off. There was a small strip of convenience stores, restaurants and storefronts on the street they went down, and Tony had Jethro pull over and park. As Jethro backed into a spot, Tony looked around casually at the scene around him. He was familiar with these streets, but he'd been away so long that he was surprised to feel just how familiar. He was afraid he'd see the same faces he'd been used to seeing on the force starting to work the corners as the sun went down, but fresh faces had taken their places.

They got out of the car, and Jethro set the alarm as they walked across the street to a small chili parlor. He watched Tony's sideways glance down the street as he checked for oncoming traffic, and he knew Tony was on high alert. They entered to a bell jangling against the door, and a man in his mid-sixties hollered from a back booth at them.

"Well look at what the cat drug in! Tony DiNozzo!" he greeted. Tony laughed genuinely, and headed to the booth. He reached out and took Randall's hand.

"Good to see you, man! How you doing?" he greeted rather boisterously.

"Can't complain! Can't complain! Who's your friend?" he said as Tony stepped aside.

"Adrian Randall, meet Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He was my boss at NCIS." Gibbs extended his hand to take the older man's, and Randall looked at Gibbs as if though he was trying to figure something out.

"You're the guy that stole Tony from Baltimore PD, aren't you?" he said with friendly accusation.

"That would be me!" Jethro said with a smirk before getting his hand back and sitting in the booth across from the man, Tony joining him.

"You said "was"," he said to Tony.

"Yeah. I'm actually with the FBI now," he said. A young woman of about twenty came over to take their order. Her dual-toned hair, multiple piercings and friendly smile made him miss Abby fiercely. He hadn't gone so long without at least texting her in over a year. He wanted to tell her _everything_, and he felt horrible that he hadn't told her _anything_.

"Do you folks know what you want, or do you need a minute?" she asked.

"Coffee," both men said at the same time. They exchanged a glance and a smile.

"I'll put a fresh pot on for you," she said with a smile and walked away.

"You should try their double deckers," Randall suggested before picking up his soda. "They probably don't go too well with coffee though."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to keep anything down for a while," Tony said. "Gory scene. Worst kind. Always does it to me."

"Worst kind? Hell, son, they're all the worst kind. Can't be anything worse than those kids strung up in Midtown, flayed, gutted and wired to the fence…" Randall and Tony both hung their heads in a moment of silence at the memory of the case they'd worked on together. Randall finally cleared his throat. "Pulled me into the messiest one yet, kid." Tony nodded.

"It gets messier, trust me." Tony's deadly serious expression met Randall's eyes, and they were interrupted by their waitress.

"Here ya go! Are you ready to order?" she asked.

"I think we're good with this for now," Tony said gently, flashing a tired smile up at the girl. She nodded in understanding, and flashed Randall a look that he returned. She was used to him bringing people here to meet apparently.

"If you decide you want something, just flag me down. I can get a to-go order together for you if you change your minds," she tapped the table with her pen as she backed away with a genuine smile.

"She's a good kid," Randall said quietly, turning back to Tony and Gibbs. "Going to school, has a little boy who just turned three, and I always make sure someone walks her home when she gets off a shift after dark. I was at Bladensburg her junior and senior year. Girl held her own when she was carrying that baby boy, and I was there the day she went into labor right there in the hallway."

Tony smiled at him, and looked over at Jethro to see him smiling into his coffee.

"So, what's going on, Tony. I know you didn't come out here to drink the coffee."

"Got a situation. We're actually breaking cover right now to be here," he said quietly.

Randall nodded. "Sorry kid, wouldn't have called ya out if I knew."

"Not a problem. Don't think it could hurt anything. It's safer actually if you don't know anything about what we're doing. It's not pretty, but we came across some information and we want to protect someone, and can't with what we're involved in." Randall gave a small nod, and Tony continued.

"There's a young woman, lives out in Oliver by the name of Samantha Hittanda. Her half-brother was involved in the _past_, and he's gone missing." The way he said 'past' made Randall's eyes flicker up to him for a moment, and he knew that what needed to be understood was. "We're pretty sure he's been offed, and we have no idea how much they know about her. He ended up giving us information we needed, and he asked us to protect her if anything were to happen to him. They have different last names, and we're hoping that no one makes the connection or gives enough of a damn to go after her, but we need someone to keep an eye on her."

"You know if she knows anything about her brother's interests?" he asked.

"No idea, but I'm sure she knows he's no angel. From what I can find though, she keeps her own nose clean. She's a nurse's aide at Mt. Sinai, and is working on her RN. I do have a question you may be able to answer for me." Tony took out his small memo pad and flipped the page open to a sketch he'd done of the tattoo on the girl's hand. "Do you know what this means? It's ink she has on her hand."

Randall shook his head. "Haven't seen it before, but I know who might." Tony went to tear the page off and hand it to Randall when he raised his hand to get the waitress's attention. "Hey, Lexi honey? Can you come here a sec?"

"Sure!" she said as she bounced back to their booth. "What can I do for yas?"

"Honey, do you have any idea what this would mean if it were tattooed on someone?" Lexi reached down and picked up the notebook and blinked hard. "This looks like the design that Charmaine had put on her shoulder for her one year, but I'm not positive. It looks an awful lot like it. She said something about the twelve point star bringing clarity or something."

"One year?" Randall asked.

"One year since the last time she shot up. She got the tattoo right before she left for school in Florida. Haven't seen her since. I wonder how she's doing. You remember her? She was about 5' 2", attitude to spare but a heart bigger than anyone I knew. She was always hanging out with Jesse my senior year."

"Oh, yeah! Short little blonde girl?"

"Yep, that's her."

"Oh, yeah, I remember her. Little spitfire. She disappeared for a while there, and then came back and had it rough for a bit. She graduated with you though, didn't she?"

"Sure did. She spent six months in the hall when her neighbors found her strung out in the stairwell. Got started real young, but she's clean now, or at least she was when I last saw her. She seemed pretty determined though, and if anyone could make it, it was Charmaine."

"Well thanks, Lexi. That helps me out," Randall said with a smile.

"Anything I can do to help, Randall!" She asked Tony and Jethro if they needed more coffee, and Jethro accepted.

"What's she studying?" Jethro asked.

"Something with computers. I'm not really sure what it is." Lexi came back to pour Jethro another cup of coffee.

"Randall says your studying "computers"," Tony joked. "Care to translate?"

Lexi laughed. "I'm taking online classes for my Cyber Security degree. Right now I'm just doing the certificate program, but I would really like to do a full Criminal Justice program. With my Little Dragon though, I can't really do classes away from home and work right now. When he starts pre-school next fall I might try it though."

Tony smirked. "Awesome! Two of my closest friends are at the head of their fields in forensics and counter-cyber terrorism. I think you and Abby would _really_ get along."

"Really? It would be really cool to know someone who is actually getting to _apply_ this stuff. I feel like I'm never going to get to actually see it in action sometimes!"

Tony smiled brightly at her. "Oh, trust me! It definitely gets applied. Tim's great, too. He can be overbearing at first, but hell, if he can teach me a few things without killing me, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help someone who actually understands what he's talking about." Tony flipped pages in his notebook and wrote down Abby's number. "Here. Text Abby and tell her that Tony said hi and that I thought she could show you around the labs."

"Labs?" she asked.

"She's head of forensics for NCIS in D.C. And bring Little Dragon with you," he added. "She's great with kids."

"That would be awesome! Thank you!" She suddenly flung her arms around Tony, who hugged her back. "Randall has such great taste in friends!" she announced as she stood up, giving the older man a wink and taking the coffee pot with her back to the counter before taking care of other customers.

Randall shook his head and chuckled. "I think you just made that girl's year," he said. "She's got every other force in the world telling her she can't do this, and you just came along and gave her the keys to the city, telling her she can. There's only so much I can do to keep reassuring her she can do this when I have no real idea what she's doing."

Jethro sat his mug down. "If there is anybody who can show her it's possible, it's Abby. And Tony's right, Abby and McGee are the best at what they do. McGee would be a great ally for her to have. There's been plenty of times where I don't know what we would have done without them."

"Hell, Tim's practically saved the world on two occasions now," Tony half-joked into his coffee.

"Three. You've missed one."

"That is definitely something I miss about NCIS. The amount of red tape you have to cut through to even kiss someone's ass at the FBI is ridiculous, and the entire tech staff thinks they're mightier than God. I wish I could pit every single one of them against McGeek, and watch him take their sorry asses down one by one."

Randall watched the exchange between them, and Tony saw the strange look they were receiving.

"How long have you been at the FBI now, Tony?" he asked.

"Year and a half, two years. Been a crazy couple of years." Randall watched as Jethro nodded sadly in affirmation, and Tony saw his old friend putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "So, Samantha."

Randall nodded. "I'll be in touch with her, and make sure she's looked after properly."

Tony ripped out a page from his memo pad and handed it off. "Last known contact information." Randall nodded, and after a glance, folded the paper and stuck it in his shirt pocket.

"We gotta be going. Thanks for everything Randall. I won't be able to contact you again until this all blows over, but if you need anything, get in touch with Abby and enlist Tim McGee's help at NCIS. She'll be able to get him for you. You can tell him everything I've told you."

Tony pulled out his wallet and folded a fifty-dollar bill, tucking it halfway under the glass jar of sugar in front of him. It was part of the roll he'd gotten off of Parleurs, and he figured it couldn't have had a better use. He slid out of the booth, and Jethro slid out after him.

"It was nice meeting you Agent Gibbs," Randall said with a genuinely warm smile, reaching again to take Gibbs' hand. "Take care of this punk here for me."

Jethro chuckled. "Don't worry, we take care of each other," he said turning to follow Tony out, letting Randall know with those few words that he'd understood the former cop had put together the nature of his and Tony's relationship. Tony waved goodbye to Lexi, and he and Jethro crossed the street to their car. Jethro made sure to push the key alarm well before they reached it in case someone had followed them and set a trap, but the car didn't explode, so they got in.

"Kinda wish we were going back to the campsite," Tony said regretfully as he put his seatbelt on. "However, I would really like a shower. I guess it cancels things out."

Jethro pulled out into traffic, and headed back towards the highway. "You have an ulterior motive for having Lexi text Abby, don't you?" he asked with a smile.

"Figured you'd see that," he said with a snicker. "I had to ask Abs to feed Kate while I was gone, and check in on the apartment since the heat's been going out again and it's supposed to get really cold next week. I didn't want the pipes bursting. She was really upset when I told her I was going dark. I don't know. Maybe she's taking it better now that they've probably all figured out we're out here together somewhere in this mess, but I thought hearing that someone had seen me alive and well would do her some good."

"I'm sure it would. You know she's going to get Lexi to tell her I was there, too, so hopefully it will kill two birds with one stone."

"More than two. Randall's a good guy, and if he's taken a special interest in Lexi, there's a reason, and he'll be relieved to know someone else has her back if anything were to happen to him. He was undercover for so long that he never got to have a family of his own, but he's always looked after kids. When I was put in touch with him, I pulled him into this case where LCN had killed the oldest born of each of the men that had snitched on their most recent project at the time, and had wired them up to a fence at a construction site. Three young kids of twelve, fifteen and sixteen. It was really bad, and he had a really hard time with it. What was even more twisted, was that the contact that had put him into contact with me knew he would have a hard time with it, and had suggested him as a sort of vengeful taunt. It was his way of saying that he knew who he was, exactly what got to him, and that he couldn't hide even in Baltimore."

"That's…" Tony looked over at Jethro to find him shaking his head. "That's exactly why I'm done. People just look more and more horrible through these lenses, and I'd like to live my life with at least one tiny shred of belief in human decency."

Tony reached out and took Jethro's hand. He knew what Jethro meant, and he knew that in the back of his mind, even with the way their relationship had tumbled, he had still seen Jethro in his mind whenever someone talked about integrity and honesty. He was Tony's shred that would never crumble.

"You know, I look at you, and Tobias, and Tim, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, and I see the good. I see the good in Lexi and Randall. I see the good in Jimmy and Breena with the twins. I even see it in Pammy and Ja'Rell. I see it in us, as a couple, and us as we take on this case. There's always going to be both good and bad people in this world, Jethro. I'm learning that the trick is to keep the good ones in your line of sight more than the bad."

Jethro nodded. After a long moment, he sighed. "I think… when a person is already so focused on something negative, they are more apt to see the bad and become blind to the good."

Tony nodded, understanding what Jethro was referring to.

"At least we can trust that Samantha will be safe now, and concentrate on the case. Do you think Randall would have a problem if he knew that we are the ones that took Parleurs out?" Jethro asked after a long minute.

"Not really, but I don't want to give him any reason to be connected with them. He's done much worse in his days, and they would do much worse to him than what we had to do to Parleurs if they got ahold of him."

They were pulling into a motel, and Jethro glanced at the bar next door to it, unsure if it would make Tony uncomfortable to be next door to a bar. He'd wondered what really stressed Tony when it came to drinking, and he decided to clear those cobwebs from his head and simply ask.

"What makes you uncomfortable now when it comes to drinking?" he said quietly as he parked by the office. Tony cringed. He knew this conversation would happen eventually, but had no warning for it.

"Honestly? It's still pretty hard to be around other people when they are drinking. It's a lot easier if I'm out with a group and Abby or Tobias are there to stay sober with me, but it isn't really as fun, so I generally stopped going out like that. I hang out with Abby, work out with Ziva, game sometimes with Tim or catch up and grab dinner with him now and then, but other than that, I've kinda…" Tony stared out the window at the neon lights absentmindedly as he thought. "I really have become a workaholic instead."

Jethro chuckled at that quietly, and Tony chuckled as well. He finally looked at Jethro and bit his lip, but then steadied his resolve. "I know it's probably a lot to ask, but please don't drink around me. At least not yet."

"I wasn't planning on it, Tony," Jethro said with a soft smile, taking his hand. "I was just wondering how you felt about our crappy motel room having a bar ten feet away from the door."

Tony sighed in relief. "I'm fine. The smell gets me pretty bad sometimes. It's one thing to watch my friends get sloshed when we're out. I just laugh and think about what idiots they look like, but when I _smell_ it… That gets me pretty bad. Especially wine and bourbon. Those two things can make me dizzy with only the scent. Crashed pretty hard on them a couple of times, and when I was at my most depressed, those were my go-tos, so I find myself doing strange things like avoiding the wine aisle at the grocery store. I can walk down the liquor aisle a little easier, but the wine racks aren't so easy to turn away from."

"Tony, I have had more than my fair share of bourbon hangovers in my lifetime, but the past two years have done me in. I think I'm going to be right there with Tobias and Abby, and join your cheering squad."

"Oh? Does this mean I can get you pom-poms and some of those little shorts?" Tony joked, making Jethro glare at him. Tony only laughed, and reached over to kiss him. When he pulled back, he sat back in the passenger seat and stared at Jethro's eyes. "You know, if an 18 year old girl who just got out of juvy can kick heroine, still manage to graduate from high school and go off to college, I think I can deal with the alcohol cravings. Hell, I'm about to be a happily married man with my own sober-squad backing me up, incredible friends around me, and a support network that could catch an elephant falling fifty stories. I think I got this."

"Don't get too cocky," Jethro said with a smile.

"No, it's not cocky, Jethro. It's hope. I'm hopeful."

Jethro smiled, and took Tony's hand again in a quick squeeze. "So am I."


	16. Chapter 16

_Obviously, this story went AU after the end of season 10. I wrote this chapter before Ziva's goodbye, so I had to alter it a little so it was more streamlined with what we now know. I'm hoping it worked! If not, please let my faux pas slide ;) Everyone gets one, right? BTW, this chapter is NSFW :D_

Chapter 16

Ziva was running on the treadmill in the exercise room at the motel they were checked into. It wasn't exactly state of the art, but she hadn't been for a run in a few days, and her nerves were starting to wear thin on the slow progress of the case. She knew they were on the verge of something huge, and that made it even worse.

She reached for her towel that hung over the controls in front of her, and saw she was at three miles as she wiped the sweat from her face. It was a little warmer in the room than she was used to running in lately, preferring to run outside during the cooler morning or evening hours. She figured she would go five, but with the way the sweat trickling down her back was annoying her rather than soothing her tonight, she decided to have mercy on her roommate and stop at four. She tended to get even crankier if she got too dehydrated, and that was the opposite of what she was trying for.

She had been thinking pretty steadily about the case for hours now, considering all of the different angles that Tony and Gibbs could be working it, and she kept being drawn back to the idea of a black level clearance. There were so many things she would probably never be allowed to know being a naturalized citizen and a former member of Mossad. It had been wearing on her for some time, but that was the straw that was breaking this camel's back. She felt suddenly ostracized from her own teammates. She and Tony had gotten together weekly for months now, and he did not tell her the depth of the case he was working on, even if he couldn't tell the details or the name of the people he was tracking. McGee had been planning their secret identities for almost three years, and he hadn't told her until he had to, and now Gibbs had a special security clearance that she didn't even know existed.

She completely understood the reasons for their secrets being kept, but it still hurt. She, for once, didn't have any secrets from the rest of them. She had no undercover assignment that she was working on, or lead she was following she had kept from anyone until she felt she could trust them. She realized that was because she _did_ trust them all now, immediately, without hesitation, to be there for her and to work with her on those leads that just three years ago she would have kept close to the chest until she couldn't help but reveal what she had been up to.

She asked herself what had changed. Why had she let everyone so close? She thought back to the bombing, her father's assassination, and her revenge. She thought of the way the team had backed Gibbs, giving up their badges, only to turn around and come back together to hunt her down again. It was probably that more than anything that had brought her home for good. She'd been afraid of how uncertain life felt, and she had gone back to Israel in search of some kind of answers.

Gibbs had sent Tony to find her, and McGee had helped track her down. Coming after her in Somalia had let her know that she was wanted, that she was loved, but for some reason, this time let her know that she was coming home for good. The feeling of relief that settled in her when Tony had found her let her know that Israel really wasn't home anymore- home was D.C.

She thought of McGee and how much he had changed since Tony's parting. She wasn't sure who the man she'd been working with that week was, and when she looked back over the last two years, she realized he had been gradually changing right before her eyes.

When they sparred in the gym, his fighting wasn't simply methodical anymore; there was passion in it. He was fueled with a motivation now that she hadn't seen from him before, and it wasn't just in the gym. Without being in Tony's limelight, and without having so much direction from Gibbs, he'd had to learn to really be himself and what that meant. She decided she approved.

She imagined what it was going to be like to have a clearheaded Gibbs back in the bullpen now that Tony was back in his life, and what that meant for McGee. Gibbs hadn't really had too much interaction with Tim since he was forcibly promoted to SFA, and she had a feeling there would be some fireworks over the next few months as they learned to work with each other again after all their changes.

She smiled to herself as she thought of how it would unfold. McGee had become her partner, and it was McGee that had had her back in the field over the past year and a half, and she trusted his judgment.

_It is more than that,_ she thought to herself. _McGee has always been a member of this little family I have found myself a part of, but he is now a friend, and a very trustworthy friend at that. I am a very lucky person to have friends that consider my safety and are concerned for my wellbeing, but something is still very different now. It is intense, almost like being in love, but not quite that. Maybe I simply love him._

She thought back to the rouse they were playing with their hotel clerks. They had checked in under the guise of a couple as they had the last time, and it was fun to joke around with McGee about it all. The mischievous glint in his eye as they stepped up to the counter told her they were going to play it up, and they did. It was fun, and did not seem at all like something McGee would chance playing at, but it had them snickering to themselves until they busted out laughing once the door to their room was closed.

It was exactly the lightheartedness that they both needed to keep their heads on straight after all of the tension they were carrying. She hoped they would still be able to joke around so easily once they were back in the bullpen in a week. She then realized she should be hoping that they _were_ back in the bullpen in a week. She sighed, reached forward to turn the speed of the treadmill down to walk a couple of minutes, and prepared herself to go back to thinking about the case.

**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**

Tim had been working on whatever lead he could find, which wasn't much. He and Ziva had watched as Tony and Gibbs had gone into a diner of some sort on a rather seedy street, and he knew that they must have been meeting an old contact of Tony's. They had turned their attention to avoiding detection as the two men left the diner, so listening to the conversation Gibbs and Tony had had in the car was put off until they got checked into their hotel. He'd been going through it while Ziva went to run.

The window must have been cracked in the car, and the sound of the wind distorted the first half of the conversation. He heard the names Randall and Lexi mentioned several times, but he couldn't hear much else until Gibbs had said something quietly, and then rolled the window up. What he heard next made him stop typing his dictation. He was so touched to hear that Tony had found him to be a source of good in his world that he had been staring into space now for ten minutes.

Ziva came into the room, and found him sitting silently and staring at the mirror hanging above the desk.

"Are you okay, McGee?" she asked quietly when she saw how visibly startled he was to the sound of the door closing.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking about something Tony had said. I think I got all of the important information off the bug. They started talking about Tony's drinking and it got personal, so I stopped there."

"I will shower, and then join you in a few minutes to go over what you have found out," she said, waiting for him to look at her for confirmation. He finally did, and nodded through his keystrokes.

Tim shook off the stun, and started looking into whatever he could to find the names Randall or Lexi in connection to Tony, the mafia, or that street in Baltimore. He even tried cross referencing Samantha with them, but came up with nothing. He looked up the name of the diner, and ran the names through. He finally got a hit in the IRS database that an Lexi Appleton worked at the place.

Randall was still a mystery. He wasn't even sure if it was a first name or a last, and he figured that if the guy was a ghost, there was a pretty good chance that he was Tony's contact. He kept looking, and Ziva was soon next to him with one of the bags of trail mix from their snack stash. She took a handful and turned it over, knowing that Tim wouldn't be able to resist the M&Ms in it. He took a handful with a smile, sitting the bag on the desk next to them.

"They mentioned two people: Lexi and Randall. I found out Lexi is an employee at the diner. Randall is still a mystery, and with the complete lack of information on him, I'm guessing he's Tony's contact. I'm going to run the name through any cases Tony had at Baltimore PD, but that's going to take a bit of hacking and storing, so I'm going to be busy for a while."

"I believe that I should be able to do some strategizing without a computer. I am not sure when they will need us, but I am starting to wonder how we should reveal our presence. It isn't like we can simply knock on the door while they are interrogating someone. That is definitely not the same thing as you barging into the interrogation room with crucial information. This is a little bit trickier than that."

"I was thinking of something a little more subtle, like waiting at the car until they came out to find us there. I've never really been one for grand entrances."

Ziva chuckled. "So you are telling me that your explosion at Gibbs the other day in the Natoli house was not a grand entrance? I believe we may have a different understanding of what that phrase means."

"That was _one time!_" Tim moaned defensively. "One explosion. One exhausted moment of confidence, and I'll probably never live it down."

"And you shouldn't! It was, I believe the word is, epic." Ziva was now sitting on the bed cross legged with a notebook and a pen. "It is a tale to go down in history, embellished in a different way every time it is told. The day Timothy McGee, presumably quiet, meek, Timothy McGee, put the infamous bastard, Leroy Jethro Gibbs in his place."

Tim rolled his eyes and shook his head as he got into the archived files of Baltimore PD.

"It is true. You saw how Abby reacted."

Ziva watched Tim's body language carefully as she mentioned Abby. She saw him shake his head a little, but it was still in frustration. She found it interesting that she hadn't noticed how he was detaching from Abby. Just a year ago, he would have asked for embellishments on her reaction as opposed to his actual confrontation with Gibbs. "_Do you really think she was impressed?"_, or "_She loves Gibbs though, she would always pick him over me in an argument."_, would have been said rather than the quiet head shake, and she decided to bait him.

"I am sure she will tell Tony the story if Gibbs has not already."

"She doesn't have enough information to really tell it," he said absentmindedly. "There was something interesting from that recording, though. It sounds like Tony is putting this Lexi in contact with Abby for some reason. I'm dying to find out why. If she could get us a back door of information somehow, that would be incredible, but Abby sucks at lying and undercover work. She doesn't have a dishonest bone in her body. You can take my word for it; I learned that the hard way."

Ziva heard the bitterness in the last part of that statement, and she decided to steer him back away from the topic.

"Is there not some way that we can contact Abby so that she can know we are at least safe, and that Tony and Gibbs are still safe, and most definitely back together?" Ziva sat back with her notebook against her knees as she made some notes about what they knew so far and what they needed to find out.

"Not directly, no. Any form of communication- social media, email, phone, text, instant messenger- is all going to be searchable. It sounds like Tony and Gibbs may be trying to get word to her at least through a third party in an offhand kinda way. That's pretty stupid of them though. We don't want to pull anyone else into this we don't have to. It's the mafia after all. If one of my crazy fans could hunt Abby down at a convent, I think the mafia could trace anything we do back to her, and unlike them, I won't chance that."

Ziva nodded again, reading the tone of Tim's voice as more protective than defensive. She knew what that felt like coming from him now. She had felt it in that small room of the bank as Tim doled out her new identification and credit cards. That's when she realized why she was feeling so strongly around him: she felt protected. She had never felt that with her own brother, and she recognized it from how Tony made her feel. McGee had become her brother somewhere along the way. She thought that Sarah must feel this safe knowing she's got her brother watching over her, and she was suddenly warmed in a place she hadn't felt light since Tali had died.

She stared down at the words she had written on her notebook in a language that had adopted her as much as the people at NCIS, and she tried to keep the tears from welling over as she felt walls coming down she didn't even know she had up.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Tony had never been so happy to be under a hot shower in his life. He and Jethro had checked into the motel, and he had immediately headed for the shower. The water rinsed away the horrible metallic smell of blood he couldn't get out of his nose, and replaced it with the familiar scents of his soap and shampoo.

He heard the door creak open and waited. When he didn't hear anything else, he pulled back the curtain and saw Jethro leaning against the doorway, watching the curtain move. He was expecting some kind of heated glance, but instead, there was a look of concern.

"You okay?" Tony asked quietly. Jethro simply nodded slowly. Tony gave him a gentle half-smile. "Come here."

Jethro stepped away from the door jamb, and pulled his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned his jeans, and let them pull his boxers with them to the floor. Tony realized he had already taken off his shoes and socks, and he felt a heavy weight in him. Something about the idea of Jethro running around barefoot felt vulnerable. While he preferred his own feet bare, Jethro was always at least in socks, ready to throw on shoes at a moment's notice.

He reached out his hand, and led Jethro directly under the spray. Jethro's arms pulled Tony close to him, and they wrapped each other in an embrace that felt safe and protective. Tony breathed deep, and every inch of Jethro's arms kept him together, pulling him back into himself.

Jethro felt Tony's skin under his, over his, against him. He felt the life there, the warmth that he was afraid had been slipping away in the warehouse the day before. He felt the person there, and it reminded him of his own humanity, giving it back. He ached to tell Tony exactly what he was giving him right then, but the words would only fall short, and the reminder of what they had done was the last thing he wanted to give Tony at that moment.

Jethro nuzzled his cheek into the crook of Tony's neck and sighed. The water ran over them both, and Tony reached one hand out to grab his soap and slowly rubbed down Jethro's back as he laid still and solid against him. His touches were intimate, but not sexual. They were lost in each other's presence, just grateful to have each other near, wanting, needing, nothing else than to be exactly as they were.

Jethro finally stood up straight with a small smile, and took the soap, cleaning the rest of his body quickly. Tony didn't leave though. He took some shampoo in his hands, reached up behind Jethro's head and began massaging the soap into his short hair. Jethro's eyes closed, and his head fell back, soapy hands stilling on his chest. Tony watched as the shampoo ran down Jethro's neck. Jethro shook his head, letting the water shake from his face.

Tony turned off the water, and pulled Jethro out of the shower. They dried quickly, and Tony pulled him towards the bed, laying on top of the blankets against the headboard. Jethro sat next to him, both naked. Tony used his towel to wipe some water off of Jethro's chest, then reached a hand up to caress Jethro's jaw, and Jethro stared back into Tony's eyes.

Tomorrow was going to be a hard day, and they both knew it. Getting the information they needed out of this Dave wasn't going to be as easy as what they got away with doing to Parleurs. Being higher up on the totem pole meant that he was probably going to be cocky, and he wasn't going to be as afraid. Tony knew he was getting ready to have to go back to that place, and he wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew he had Jethro by his side through it all, and that would mean he would be okay.

Jethro was thinking about what the next few days would hold for them. He thought about the danger and the very real possibility that they were going to get tangled with something that could cost them their lives, if not their sanity along the way. He thought of the cold and empty person Tony turned into when they had to do this. He got the chills at the thought, and Tony wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into him.

"We can do this, Jethro," Tony whispered.

Jethro nodded. "We can, and we will." He pulled back just enough to look into Tony's eyes. "It just scares me what you become when we do."

Tony blinked hard in surprise. "Really?" he asked quietly.

Jethro nodded again. "Yeah." His voice was unnaturally soft to Tony's ears, but he let him continue. "I don't know how to explain it. It's kind of… almost as if you leave your humanity somewhere else while you're there, and then put it back when you're done. I… they're always in there together for me, wrestling. When you…" He sighed deeply and closed his eyes as Tony's arm tightened around his shoulder reassuringly. He opened his eyes again and looked into Tony's, willing himself to look for the inhuman Tony that his lover turned into when he was hurting someone, but he couldn't find him. "When you take your turn, you leave my Tony somewhere else, somewhere safe. The Tony that takes his place is terrifying in his own right, but to think that my Tony could be lost somewhere…"

"Jethro," Tony said with a small smile. "I leave most of me with you. Safe and sound, with you. And when we're done with what we have to do, you put me back little by little until I fit into myself again. I will never be lost to the person I have to become to protect the people I care about. That person I become in that moment is never completely in control. All it takes is looking up into your eyes to feel that piece of me come alive, and bring me back to myself. As long as I have you, I have me."

Eyes burning, Jethro climbed into Tony's lap, straddling his thighs. He was tired of words that fell far too short in explaining what he was feeling, so he let his lips fall against Tony's, and they explained for him. The kiss was full of need and desperation, passion and love, trust and determination, and when he felt Tony reach back and pull him closer to him by his hips before turning them over in one swift motion that had him on his back, he surrendered to the security he'd always found in Tony, and let himself fall into the safety offered.

Tony felt like he was coming undone as his tongue twisted with Jethro's, and his hands skimmed the man's body. The need to convey what he was feeling was consuming him from the inside out suddenly, and he tried to let every caress, every lick, every nibble reassure Jethro that the love was there, the trust was there, and the need… Oh, God, the _need_ to be close to him, inside and out, physically and emotionally, the _need_ to tell Jethro that his world had been losing color while they were apart, and that now they were together, it was vibrant again, the _need_ to tell him with his body and breath that no matter what was about to happen, or what had happened in the past, in that precious moment that they were given, they were together, and nothing could take that moment from them, and that was all he needed.

Jethro could barely breathe. The energy and intensity of the kiss and Tony's touch had him seized, his mind scrambling for some bit of reality to hold on to, but Tony's breath was coming fast into his mouth, and their hands were entwined now above his head as Tony's body slid over his. Their love-making had always been passionate, and it was the only way to say all of those things they'd never be able to say, but needed so badly to express. This time was the most extreme example of this practice though. He'd never felt like he was going to fall so deeply into a moment in his entire life.

Tony nibbled his way down Jethro's collarbone as he thrust against him, the friction causing both men to make sounds in their throats that matched their need. Tony could feel the vibration of Jethro's noises in his lips as they began kissing down his chest. He pulled Jethro's hands with his as he made his way down his body, and refused to let go, even as he started using his lips and just the very tip of his tongue to tease the length of Jethro's cock.

Tony's mouth kept going further and further, refusing to spend too much time on Jethro's member despite the primal growl he received when he shifted his focus to his balls. He licked and suckled on them, taking first one into his mouth, fondling it with his tongue, and then repeating it with the other, puckering his lips around them in a way that made Jethro gasp before pulling back and releasing them. He lapped at them, then went even lower, turning his head sideways to lick Jethro's perineum. Jethro immediately lifted his legs, unable to think, reacting more out of instinct. He let the arches of his feet settle on Tony's shoulders a moment until Tony's tongue tried to go even lower. He moaned loudly and rolled his hips, hoisting his legs in the air closer to his chest, spreading them wide.

Tony's warm tongue slid between his crack, flicking back and forth in a way that made him weak, and then Tony's began rimming him gently, almost tentatively, which was a stark contrast from the demanding way he'd been taking him so far. When Tony's tongue suddenly drilled into his tight ass, he puffed out a short voiceless sob, his chest pounding.

Tony descended on Jethro like a starving man, tasting everything he could. He didn't think, he just moved, and his movements were able to take everything in his mind and heart and convey those things to Jethro. It was their language, it was how they communicated, their natural tongue. And his tongue was definitely doing what it wanted to do. He dipped his tongue in between Jethro's cheeks and tasted his prize, teasing and caressing Jethro's hole lovingly before stiffening and pushing in. He loved the way Jethro writhed underneath him, thrusting down so that he went deeper. He felt the tight ring of muscle around his tongue, and he darted in and out past it, leaving as much saliva as possible behind.

He needed more. He gave Jethro's fingers on his left hand a final squeeze before he pried them apart, and he stuck two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them before kneeling up and sliding them into Jethro's now slick hole. He looked down at the blue eyes shining back up at him full of trust, and he scissored the two digits apart, surprised to find Jethro so pliant already. It didn't take long before he was prepared enough to take him.

Jethro's free hand went to his cock, giving it slow, drawn out strokes as he waited for Tony to decide he was open enough for him. He had never once rushed the process until the other night, always making sure Jethro was well prepared so that they both enjoyed it. After how incredible the friction was the night he'd stormed into the house, he almost wished he'd make it a little rougher once in a while. He vaguely thought to remember to bring that up later, but for now, things were perfect, and he was thrusting hard against Tony's digits before he had even realized it.

"That's right," Tony cooed. "That's it. You want that? I think you want more than that."

The words fell on deaf ears. Jethro was lost in the sensation, and nothing Tony could possibly say would mean anything beyond what he was feeling. He lost that precious feeling for a moment, and a high keening sound started leaving his throat only to be replaced by a relieved sigh as Tony pushed forward and entered him slowly.

Everything wrong and dark in the world no longer existed. There was no fear, no desperate need, no sadness and anger, no inner demons. Everything was right now, everything would be okay. Everything that hadn't been making sense for so long, now made perfect sense, and yet it would never be explained. The perfect counterpoint of their thrusts against one another as their hands joined again was their true heartbeat. When they came in perfect synchronicity with each other what seemed like hours later, Tony collapsed onto Jethro, chest to chest, and they were both very aware that their heartbeats matched each other perfectly as they fell asleep.

NCISNCISNCISNCIS

Fornell was looking over the case file in front of him. It was laid out across his desk in a hodgepodge, and he had even more pieces hanging up around his office. Nothing was fitting together anymore, and he wished that he knew what Tony had found out so far.

He thought about the text he had received from Tony the night before and cringed. The case was moving forward on his agent's end, but at what cost? He was staring at the papers pinned to the wall blankly when he heard a light tapping on the door.

"Hey, Fornell? It's Ja'Rell. You in there?"

"Yeah, Ja'Rell. Come on in." The door opened, and the smiling face before him couldn't hide the exhaustion of the man wearing it. "Good news?" he asked.

Ja'Rell shook his head. "I don't think so. There's a chain of people that _might_ connect me to a very unreliable source. I don't see anything coming out of that we can trust. I'm giving up for the night though."

"Take Pammy with you. Get some rest," Fornell directed.

"Pammy headed home a few hours ago. She's been getting headaches. It's the autumn weather around here. She's not used to it, and I think she's struggling with her sinuses."

Fornell nodded in understanding. "They wreak havoc on Emily's, too. When you see her tomorrow, tell her to get the stuff they have behind the pharmacy counter that's actually over-the-counter. It's what you really need to get through the rainy and moldy falls like this one is turning out to be."

"I'll let her know. I hate watching her trying to push through when it's so obvious she's not feeling well," he said. "Well, have a good night."

"You, too," Fornell said before going back to his case file.

Ja'Rell pulled his phone out as he walked down the hallway, and started searching his map app for a 24-hour pharmacy nearby. He was determined to find something to help his teammate feel better. He knew the headaches weren't what was really bugging her, but getting rid of them could only help, and it was obvious she wasn't open to talking about what else was eating away at her.

He got to his car and followed the app's GPS navigation. He wandered through the streets of D.C., thinking about the case and his teammate. He knew she hated D.C., but he found that he kind of liked it. He missed San Diego, but he felt like something was here for him in this city that wasn't there for him back home. He'd never be able to send Pammy back to San Diego alone though, and he knew she wouldn't stay there with him.

In their office back home, the joke was that they were twins separated at birth, because they were always around each other and agreed on everything. It was only made funnier by how they looked nothing alike. They leaned on each other for everything, and their corny senses of humor was identical to each other. With neither of them having any family to turn to, they had become much more to each other than work partners.

He'd seen the way Tony acted around his old team a couple of days prior, and he loved hearing Tony talk about them. He felt something similar with Pammy. There was pride, and trust, and a general feeling of commitment and loyalty to one another. He saw the same thing with Fornell and Tony, though they didn't outwardly show it at work. He wondered if maybe that's what he was looking for- a team that would understand that.

He shook his head as he walked up to the counter of the pharmacy. The pharmacist asked what he needed with a tired smile.

"I'm looking for something for sinus headaches, and my boss was suggesting to ask you for something strong enough that's kept behind the counter," he explained.

"I've got a couple of options," she said, and pulled two boxes from the shelf and sat them in front of him on the counter to explain the differences. "When you get them, is it a pounding pressure behind your eyes or more of a sharp pain?" she asked.

"Oh, it's not for me. It's for-" Ja'Rell hesitated for just a second when he tried to define his relationship to Pammy. "For a friend of mine. She's lived on the west coast her whole life, and she's not used to the east coast autumn."

"Yeah, and this one is a wet one, which makes it much worse. I'd go with this one if I were you," she said.

"I'll take your word for it," Ja'Rell said with a smile, and handed her his debit card. He thanked her as she handed him his receipt and the box of tablets in a small plastic bag, and then contemplated whether or not to go take them to Pammy right then. He pulled his phone back out to text her. It was almost ten o'clock, and he considered whether or not to hit send. If she was already asleep, he didn't want to chance waking her. He decided to wait until morning to leave them on her desk instead, and drove back to his tiny apartment lost in thought.

He was concerned that Pammy's homesickness was distracting her, and that her priority wasn't so much bringing down the organization, but simply going home. At the same time, he wondered if there was even much of a home to go back to for him.

He'd grown up in Atlanta, and had only moved to San Diego because he saw a chance to get away from all of the bullshit he had grown up around. He was looking forward to a fresh start, and he had found it, but it hadn't felt quite right. He drove through the misty October night, through city streets lined with flags and tall buildings that felt like justice was built right into their bricks, and he could hear the history singing to him, asking him to stay.


	17. Chapter 17

_Next! :) _

Chapter 17

Jethro woke up with Tony wrapped in his arms, his face nuzzled in Tony's thick hair, and a surprisingly clear head on his shoulders. It would be time to get up in a few minutes, and he was ready to take on the day- at least he would be after he watched Tony wake up. He thought about the night before, and he put his hand flat on Tony's back. He could feel the strong thump-thump of Tony's heart, and he felt it echoing his own. A minute later, Tony was waking up, his chin moving to prop on Jethro's shoulder as his eyes flickered open. The dozy smile Tony gave him made his heart flutter, and he could have sworn that he felt Tony's heart skip too.

"You ready for this?" Jethro asked quietly.

Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah, I am."

"Then let's shower, grab some coffee, and plan it out."

Tony nodded in agreement, and shifted so he could kiss Jethro deeply. Jethro kissed Tony back with everything in him, and when they separated, Tony's breath tickled his lips as he told him he loved him. Jethro smiled and looked into Tony's green eyes as he said he loved him, too. Tony crawled off of him, and disappeared into the bathroom. He followed and brushed his teeth while Tony took a quick shower.

"You remember me taking that picture of Parleurs?" Tony asked, sputtering a little as the water ran down his face.

"Unnhuh," Jethro confirmed as he rinsed.

"I'm thinking we'll use Parleurs' phone, and send that to this Dave once we're sure he's in the café. We've had the battery out since we took him, so it couldn't have been traced so far. We'll wait to send the photo until we're at the café as well, and then take it apart again. I can take the memory card out, put it in my laptop, and transfer the picture to it that way without ever having to turn it on and registering a signal. Then, when we get to the café, we send it with a message, and when Dave comes out, we grab him."

"How will you know if this Dave's phone number is even in Parleurs' phone if you're not going to turn it on?" Jethro asked.

"If it isn't already, it will be. When Parleurs' is late, I'm sure Dave will call him. We can reply with the text. I'm trying to think of what to say."

"We need to consider that this guy might have a detail of some sort with him," Jethro said, switching Tony places in the shower.

"Oh, I've got an idea for that. I'm thinking one of us will have to guard the back door and one the front. We can be on the phone with each other so we know what we're hearing, but we'll also use it as our cover, as if though we've stepped out to have a conversation, perhaps even loudly. As soon as I hit send and he sees that photo, I'm thinking he's going to make a break for one of the exits, and whichever he chooses, we'll be there."

"And if he has a guy standing out front?"

"Then I'll just give him the creepy stare-down from the window or something to make him choose the back door instead. We can fit two bodies in the trunk if we need to, and I'm thinking we may wanna have a syringe handy in case we need to sedate." Tony began running his brush over his teeth.

"I can see the up-side to that. I have a feeling we're running out of time though, so it's going to need to be a small dose- small enough to hit hard and fast, even if it doesn't last very long. Can you look up how much of what we have can do that?"

"Unnhuh," Tony said as he brushed around the mint foam.

"Good. Where are we headed with him? Can't be the same place."

"Nope," Tony said, mouth freshly rinsed and toothbrush tapping against the sink to remove the excess water. "There's an old abandoned maintenance building on Selden Island. Should give us easy access to the Potomac when we're finished, too."

"Sounds like we're ready," Jethro said as he stepped out from the shower, reaching for a towel.

"I think we're as ready as we can be for something like this," Tony said. He popped open the bottle of vitamins on the counter, and took two with a cup of water from the tap. Jethro followed suit, and they emerged together into the bedroom to get ready.

Two hours later, they were parking outside of the little café that Dave and Parleurs usually met up. They went in, got some coffee, and scoped out the place.

"Still can't eat, eh?" Tony asked quietly as he sipped on his brew.

"I may be able to, but I think the anticipation of today's events is discouraging it." Tony nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, I just can't do it. I thought a bagel might be okay. Plain. Just a plain bagel, with nothing, and the coffee, but nope. Walked in, smelled food, and…" Tony shook his head, then tossed it in a shrug as he became interested in his coffee cup.

"Hopefully it'll come back soon," Jethro said, sucking down his coffee and getting up to refill it, squeezing Tony's shoulder as he passed him.

Tony looked down at his phone, and browsed through it. He made a mental note to text Fornell his code that night depending on how the interrogation went, and sighed. Personal was a one, he had that down. Right now, he would have to say that the case code would be a three, but could easily be bumped to a two if they played their cards right with Dave. He had a feeling that things weren't going to go as smoothly as they had with Parleurs, though.

He could feel the syringe in his pocket, cap on the needle, and he thought through their plan for the thousandth time. The amount of the drug suggested when he'd researched should do the trick to get them out of the city and secured before Dave woke up.

The car was parked behind the building, and Jethro had decided to take the back door. Tony didn't mind, preferring to let him drive when they had to make a quick getaway.

Jethro sat back down in front of Tony, and watched him think through the case and their next steps. He waited patiently, not disturbing his thoughts, and realized that he had actually managed to turn over a case for the first time in his life, trusting it to be in another person's hands. He thought again about retiring, and how nice it would be to finally let it all go. He'd never thought in a million years he would want to leave it behind. When he chose the job over Tony, he had to really think about what he'd done, and in considering it so closely, every case began to wear on him. He would still feel the relief and joy of a solved case, but everything that led up to that point was overwhelmingly not worth being without the man in front of him.

It wasn't just that though. He'd always believed in the good in people, always seen that beyond the evil and the wrong-doing, there was good, and intentions, and hope. After Wallingford, he'd started losing that hope.

He'd been trying so hard not to think about Dorneget over the past few days, but it wasn't letting him go. He carried the guilt of that loss with him every day, but the past few days had been reviving the anger and the sorrow tenfold. The memories of Dorneget hanging out with their team after he had found out about him and Tony, and the talk they had in the hallway that night, were on the edge of his memory, taunting him.

He knew it wasn't his fault. There were horrible people in the world, and they did what they did. Balboa's team hadn't been a good match for the kid, but he had hoped being with them would build a thicker skin that he needed, and he was looking forward to watching Dorney learn his own way of making things work. He kept telling himself that if Dorneget had been with his team, they would have been too soft on him as a friend, but he knew that wasn't true. Between him and Tony, they had managed to bring Tim up and break Ziva down so that they all came together in the middle. Hell, his team been training Dorneget more than Balboa's team was.

The truth was, he regretted not bringing Dorneget on board when he had the chance as soon as Dorneget found out about his relationship. He felt he should have protected him like he protected everyone else in his life. The guilt of that decision was killing him, knowing that if he'd just stepped down in the first place, like he technically should have when he and Tony started seeing each other, he could have prevented Dorneget's death by having him on what would have become Tony's team instead of Balboa's, and saved him and Tony two years of misery after Vance's ultimatum. He felt responsible, and he didn't feel like he deserved to be the MCRT team lead was anymore.

"You're thinking awfully deeply." Tony's voice startled him, but all he did was blink. He had been staring down at his coffee cup for the past ten minutes without taking a drink.

"Thinking about Dorneget," he finally said quietly.

He felt more than saw Tony freeze across the table. Thick air hung between them, full of sorrow and pain, and he knew he'd brought up a rather taboo topic. McGee had worked with Dorney the most, considering they were both friends with Abby, but Tony had made a special effort to take him under his wing after they're relationship was exposed. When Dorney was killed, Tony had officially asked Vance to open an investigation on Balboa's team, and whether or not they had followed all necessary steps to ensure Dorneget's safety. Vance agreed to the investigation, and it ended with Balboa's entire team resigning. Tony had left before it had happened though, and Jethro wondered if anyone had ever told him the outcome.

"You know that Balboa's entire team stepped down right after you left, right?" he asked quietly.

Tony nodded, his fingers turning his coffee cup very slowly, his eyes focused on the brim of the black lid as he tried to calm himself. "Ziva told me."

"Oh, I figured McGee would have told you. Vance didn't really give them the option. After they couldn't account for a lot of things, McGee actually went to talk to Vance himself about it all, and I'm not sure what he said, but thirty minutes later, the entire team was packing up their desks."

Tony's eyes shot up from his cup and met Jethro's. "Really? He didn't tell me. Ziva and Abby left that part out, too."

"I don't think they knew. Ziva wasn't there when it happened, and unless someone told Abby, she didn't know either. You'd just left, and I was so…"

Tony reached out and took his hand, staring at his fingers as he did so. "The past is the past, Jethro. I'm only taking the important parts into the future with us. I'll have to ask McGee about it though. I'd love to know what he said."

"If it was anything like him going off at me at Roberta Natoli's house the other day, I would have canned their asses too." He smirked, and raised his coffee to his lips.

"You seem really proud of him, Jethro," Tony said with a smile.

"I am."

"Make sure you let him know that." It wasn't a suggestion, and Jethro knew it.

"I will."

Tony looked down at his watch. "It's getting close to time. We should probably take our places."

"Okay. I've got the back door covered," Jethro said, then refilled his coffee one more time before heading out the back door by the kitchen. He got into the car, and pulled his phone out to call Tony. A minute later, he and Tony were talking on opposite sides of the building to each other in hushed tones to keep up appearances.

Tony suddenly changed his voice so that it was slightly higher and effeminate, and it took Jethro biting his lip not to laugh. "Oh, and so this guy just shows up, out of nowhere, and he tells her that he's there to make sure everything happens the way it's supposed to. Well, you know her, she starts yelling at him about how the flowers weren't right, the cake wasn't the right color, the DJ was late. It was a mess. Our wedding had better not be like that!"

"He's here?" Jethro asked, humor obvious in his voice. _Leave it to Tony to keep us loose,_ he thought.

"Yeah, and if you think you're getting away with not having a cake, think again. It's the only thing I've ever really enjoyed about traditional wedding ceremonies. The flowers, not so big on, but the cake is already planned. So deal with it. Now as for our situation, we have a little bit of time to plan what we need to do, and of course, we're going to have help, whether or not we want it, but you know they mean well."

"He has a detail?" Jethro asked with a groan.

"Yeah. I'm thinking about making them both bridesmaids."

"Two. What are we looking at?"

"Brittany's new at this whole thing, so I think she'll just sit back and follow Stephanie's lead. Stephanie is going to be a handful though. I don't want to underestimate Brittany though, I shouldn't say that, she's definitely put a few people in their place over time, but Stephanie can be a little intimidating. Maybe we should just do all of our wedding planning at the bar, because Stephanie is so much easier to deal with after she's had a little liquid nourishment, you know what I mean?"

"We're dosing "Stephanie", got it. Should we leave her in the lot or bring her with us?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I think if we just leave her alone a while, she'll calm down about it all." Tony was trying not to look too obviously at the men, but they were definitely paying attention to his conversation, and giving each raised eyebrows at Tony's acting job. He considered the fact that they really were going to have to have this conversation soon, but pushed it out of mind.

"Okay. But what about the other guy?"

"Oh, I think Brittany will go running to her mother when he steps in, but he's my best man, so she's going to have to deal with it. He has more class than either of them, and his opinion matters a hell of a lot to me. This has to be perfect, you know? The timing, the coordination, the ambience, the location! There's so much to consider."

Jethro tried to unravel what he was saying and asked, "Are you asking my advice?"

"Yeah, of course your opinion matters. It's _our_ wedding!"

"I think I we might need to change the plan a little. Where are they parked?"

"It's just around the corner, though. Do you think we have enough time? Should we postpone it?"

"How about this; I'll pull the car around so that it's by theirs. You come down here, hide around the corner of the building, send the text. When they all come back to the car, we'll have a better shot at taking them down together."

"Oh! I think that sounds like a perfect plan! See! I knew there was a reason I was marrying you! Okay. Let's talk tonight. I have to go meet some clients," Tony started moving past the two men waiting on the sidewalk without looking at them. "Maybe when I come home we can talk about it more. OH! But no rainbows! I know that Raquel is all about making it like, some big gay wedding, but – uh- no. Not going down that way."

Jethro was snickering on the other end of the phone, and Tony could hear that he was pulling out of the lot. "I'll see you in a minute," he said.

"You, too! Love you, handsome!" Tony canted as he turned the corner and tried not to burst out laughing. They didn't actually hang up the line though. He saw Jethro pulling up beside a black towne car, essentially blocking it in. There was enough space behind it to parallel park into that spot, so he asked Jethro if he was planning on staying where he was sitting or parking.

"I'm going to stay here for now, but if someone tries to come down the road, I'll make it look like I'm trying to park. Are you ready to send the picture?"

"Yeah. Should only take a few." Tony pulled out the second cell phone and turned it on. He navigated the screens fairly easily and within a minute he had the text sent. "Sent." He immediately pulled the battery out and stuck the pieces in his pocket, pulling out the syringe instead.

Jethro put the flashers on, got out of the car and came to move to the trunk, opening it. Tony walked up next to him, their eyes locking in an intense gaze. The entire atmosphere changed. It was charged with a dangerous spark, and they both knew that the rules were suddenly changing.

"Are you ready?" Jethro asked, his hands going to Tony's waist without thinking.

"I'm ready for this to be over," Tony said, his voice dark with a fiery passion that ignited something inside of Jethro. Their hearts were beating hard as they waited for the three men to come around the corner.

"Follow me," Jethro whispered in Tony's ear. Tony watched Jethro break into a smile and he reached up to put his arms around Jethro's neck.

"I wanted to surprise you!" Jethro said.

"You're just so sweet! How did I get so lucky?" Tony said as he leaned forward and kissed Jethro, uncapping the needle as discreetly as he could behind Jethro's back.

"Hey! You two queers mind moving your fucking car so we can get outta here!" Tony knew that it was game-on at that point.

"Ex-cuse you?!" He said, turning around and putting his hand on his hip to hide the needle behind his back.

Dave started coming around the trunk of his car, and the larger of the two men that Tony had dubbed "Stephanie" stood next to him.

"You heard him. Move your car. Some of us have better things to do than get perverted in the middle of the street," "Stephanie" said. He watched as "Brittany" squeezed between the cars and got behind the driver's seat, and as soon as the door closed, leaving them alone with "Stephanie" and Dave, they sprung into action.

Tony jumped forward, stabbing the needle in the jugular of the larger man, and Jethro leapt on Dave. Tony wrapped himself around his target, trying desperately to keep the man's pounding fists off of him while he waited for the medicine to kick in. Meanwhile, Jethro was taking a few swings with Dave, who was swinging back. Jethro got Dave's hand behind his back and turned him, pushing him so he fell into the trunk of their car. He quickly slammed the trunk closed, and then turned to find Tony now wrestling with the smaller of Dave's two guards. "Stephanie" had passed out finally and was sprawled across the back of the towne car. "Brittany" was taking a wild swing at Tony's head, ignoring Jethro completely. Jethro came up behind him, and put him in a headlock that he clawed against. Tony panted for breath a moment as he stared the two of them down.

"Did you just try to hit my fiancé?" Jethro asked the man turning red in his hold. He watched him shake his head no furiously as he tried to break free. "I didn't think so. And I know you won't try it again." He let the man go, pushing him forward so he slammed into the car. Jethro's eyes met Tony's a moment, and Tony smirked as they rushed to get into their car. They sped off as quickly as possible without raising concern, and zigzagged through the streets for a couple of minutes until they were between two old apartment buildings a few blocks away.

"I still have some of the sedative loaded, but I don't know how much. And we can probably expect…" Tony motioned like a gun as he whispered. Jethro nodded, and they both took deep breaths before they got out of the car. Tony got into the backseat and pulled out one of the jump ropes. He pulled his knife out of pocket and cut the cumbersome handles off the ends. Jethro stood off to the sides by the rear wheel, gun drawn, and Tony crawled so that he was crouched down low by the trunk, hidden from the caged animal with rope and needle.

Jethro popped the trunk with the key fob, and immediately gunshots rang out in the alley as Dave unloaded his clip. He then tried to jump out of the trunk, and Tony stuck him in the leg with the needle, surprising him and making him stumble forward, falling and losing his weapon. Jethro jumped forward, putting his heel in the man's neck, pushing him hard into the ground, and Tony straddled him and tied his hands behind him in a skilled knot. They moved quickly, knowing the gunshots would have drawn attention.

"Who the fuck are you guys?!" Dave shouted. "I swear, when my uncle gets ahold of you, he's going to make sure you suffer! And that's if my crazy-fuck of a cousin doesn't get to you first! Who the fuck are you?!"

Tony bent low to the man's ear next to Jethro's shoe. "We're the men who took out your little pet project. Play nice, or you're next." Tony stood up, pulling Dave up to his feet only to have the man sway. The meds were hitting him hard enough to make him woozy already, and Tony was grateful. He turned and pushed him into the trunk with the cinderblocks, but he was out like a light and much paler than before. Tony shook his head as he reached into his pockets and cleared them out. He turned the cell phone off and took the battery out. "As soon as I know this is wiped we'll ditch it." Jethro was running his hands down the man's legs looking for weapons. He found a small piece strapped to his leg, and pulled it. They wiped both pieces down and unloaded them.

The entire situation only lasted a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. They both got back into the car, looking completely calm to any observers, but their hearts were racing and their adrenaline was flowing. Jethro turned the key over, and exited through the other end of the alley. Two minutes later they were on the highway, and Tony breathed a little easier.

"Okay. We can't take the toll roads and risk being spotted, so I'd get off up here on route seven and take it straight up. Hopefully the jackass in the trunk will stay out long enough not to cause any noise at the entrance to the park when we cross over onto Selden." Tony took out the cell phone he'd confiscated and put the battery back in. He ran through the settlings and turned off the GPS, the network and the wifi, then began reading through the most recent messages.

Jethro got off the highway and turned to Tony at the red light at the end of the exit. "What?" he asked.

"It looks like I have some reading to do. He's been texting with someone, and I think it's Frankie. They were going to send Parleurs in for something, and then dispose of him. They have a contact for whatever it is they're looking for. Let me sort this out, and I'll break it down in a few," he looked up at Jethro for a quick second, and then rested left his hand on Jethro's thigh as his right hand scrolled through the messages on the phone. Jethro wrapped his fingers around Tony's and drove. That little piece of him that itched to be in the know started scratching at the back of his mind, eager for Tony to read every message aloud, but he reminded himself that this one was Tony's lead, and he needed to back off.

He remembered when he came back from Mexico, and Tony was still in charge of the team. He'd tried to step back and let Tony take control, but as soon as he was present, he found Tony constantly second guessing himself and deferring to him, all the while struggling with him for control. The man next to him was nothing like the man in the bullpen back then. He was confident, clearheaded, and used to being in charge. He wondered what exactly he did now at the FBI that had him taking on such a leadership role. He knew there was more to it than he'd heard through the grapevine. He and Fornell acted nothing like Sacks and Fornell used to, and with separate offices, he wondered how much of a team they were. He decided to wait until later to ask, but it started the wheels turning in his head.

He couldn't imagine Tony going back to NCIS, and he knew he was leaving. What would that mean for McGee and Ziva? There were two new team leads with fairly fresh crews under them. He knew that Ziva had grown to be an exemplary agent, but that was where the train stopped for her. She didn't have the personality to be a team leader. He considered McGee running the team. He'd have Ziva for an SFA, and probably a couple of newbies. He just didn't see McGee being happy doing that, and no matter how much he had grown, he just didn't think it fit him. His skillsets were extremely unique, and he could do a million things if he wanted to, but he enjoyed being an agent. He sighed as he decided to put that train of thought on the back burner, too.

Tony heard Jethro sigh, and squeezed his hand. He wasn't sure what his lover was thinking about, but he knew that it wasn't good by the resigned tone.

"There is something they've been trying to get ahold of for a couple of years. They had the option to go with something less volatile it looks like, but waited and held out for this stuff, whatever it is. They are very careful not to mention anything to give away what it is. They did mention having to get people to help them set it up. We could be looking at nuclear, biological, chemical… it could be anything. We may have just hit the rush button on it all though, because Dave was supposed to message Frankie back a reply based on whatever happened with his meeting. I'd have to access the web to see if he had emailed him about the photo, and I can't do that without risking our location getting out, so we'll have to wait until we dispose of the body. I really wish I could call McGee right now. He'd know how to get into this thing without raising any red flags."

NCISNCIS==NCISNCIS==NCISNCIS

Tim was aching to break into the phone Tony was holding. The bug was sending fairly clear feedback to them since the wind noise was much more subdued than it had been on the highway. He and Ziva had opted to go ahead and take the toll roads and the interstate rather than take the slower roads, hoping to beat them to their destination.

"It sounds like they have someone in direct connection with Frankie Giovanni though, so we're finally moving in the right direction. I think my heart might finally be able to stop racing for a while," Tim said as he clicked a few things on the computer to tweak the sound quality of the bug.

"I thought we may have misjudged in the alley when we heard the gunshots. I am glad we trusted our instincts. We do not have enough material to present to Gibbs and Tony without them killing us at this point. They may forgive us if we had something to contribute or if we were to assist them in a moment of danger, but empty-handed and clear skies would earn us more than a slap on the head."

"Agreed. For now, I'm researching everything I can get ahold of on Dave. He's just as elusive as his cousin and uncle, and he is getting out of every charge brought against him. He's keeping his own hands clean, but funneling money out like it's water. He must have a direct vein into the organization's account, because it looks like he's had to pay off some pretty high up people." Tim's fingers kept clicking over the keyboard as they listened to Tony and Gibbs' conversation.

"_I still can't believe you kept rolling with the fiancé schtick when they came out to the car," _Tony's voice said with amusement through Tim's speakers.

"_Well, the truth was easier to work with there, so I went with it. They didn't have to know that they were Brittany and Stephanie the whole time, but Brittany definitely knows not to lay his hands on my fiancé again."_

Tim's fingers froze, and he looked at Ziva, whose mouth had dropped open and eyes were wide.

"_I can't wait until this is all over. I meant it about the cake though," _Tony said. _"I don't care about all of the other stuff, but I already know what kind of cake we're going to have, and exactly where it's coming from. My friends Jenny and Thomas had their cake done by this little bakery in Arlington a few years ago, and it actually made me think of you while eating it. It was a sweet white icing with an espresso flavored cake and caramel between the layers. It would be perfect. I know you're not big on chocolate, and I mean, it was a _coffee _flavored cake. What would be more perfect?"_

_Jethro laughed. "We weren't even together yet three years ago, and you were already planning our wedding cake?"_

"_Well, things were starting to change between us, and I was starting to think… you know… maybe one day, we'd go through with it, and now we are." _

Tim knew he should reach his finger up and hit the mute button on the computer, but he couldn't. He felt like a horrible friend and a creepy voyeur, but he couldn't move.

"_I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder what your therapist thought about our engagement."_

"McGee," Ziva said. "Am I hearing this right?"

All Tim could do was nod.

"_She was shocked. I imagine anyone we tell will be shocked. She wants me happy, healthy and safe though, so she's just rolling with it for now. I don't plan on giving her any reason to doubt our decision. Like I told her, we're both aware this isn't exactly happily-ever-after, but what we have is worth hanging on to enough to promise to wade through the muck together."_

"_I think we're beyond muck, Tony. There's a man in the trunk we're about to kill together- muck was left back in your office. What we're in now is something completely different."_

"_Yes, but we'll get back to muck eventually. It's not going anywhere. It will be waiting in my office when we're done here."_

"_Your office? Are we going to work through the _muck_ in your office?" Gibbs said with a playfully seductive voice that had Tim scrambling for the mute button._

"McGee! We were just getting to the good part!" Ziva shouted, startling him.

"You've been spending way too much time with Abby," he said, his face bright red in embarrassment.

"Perhaps, or perhaps I am just trying to make lemonade. There are plenty of lemons around, are there not? Now turn the sound back up!" Her playful demand made Tim roll his eyes, but he un-muted the speakers against his better judgment. Thankfully, the conversation had turned.

"_We should be coming up on it soon. Watch for the signs," Tony said._

"_We need to decide what kinds of questions to ask, and how we're going to play this."_

"_You know, I'm thinking we may actually be able to start off playing it like Frankie sent us because he doesn't trust Dave. Did you see how pale he got when I said we'd offed his "pet project"," Tony asked quietly. "If we make it seem like Frankie thinks he's sold out, then maybe he'll trust us enough to give us what we need as some kind of explanation. We can say that his little project sprung a leak, and info got out that shouldn't have. We can tell him that the mob is already receiving slack because of the information that Parleurs gave up; that his little drug runner buddy is going to be the cause of the mob's demise, and that he shouldn't have trusted him with so much information, because now the feds know what they're after, and it's all his fault, blah, blah, blah. Maybe then he'll give up what we need. If not, then we'll use the serum on him, and hope for the best with manual techniques. Breaking him down mentally first could be beneficial."_

"_Sounds good. Guess we're back to being Richard and Ted," Gibbs said. _

"_Richard and Ted," Tony agreed. _

Tim looked at Ziva, who glanced back as they got off the exit. "I don't know about you, Sarah, but I'm ready for this to be over with."

"I agree, Tom," Ziva said with a sigh, a small smile across her face as they played up their false identities to match Richard and Ted. Tim smirked at her playfulness, and buried his head in his typing as Ziva tried to find a place to park the car. He knew he would never be known as the clown that Tony had been, keeping the team from losing their minds with his random humor, but he was happy to know he could make Ziva smile under pressure, and was even happier to know he could smile still, too.


	18. Chapter 18

_I in no way, shape, or form claim to be an expert on military history or explosives, and after the research I did to get this as close to right as possible, I'm probably now on Homeland Security's Watch List, so I really hope you enjoy it! ;) _

Chapter 18

The words that McGee stared at had him in even more shock than hearing Tony and Gibbs discuss their engagement. He was reading through them quickly, moving his lips with a line he was repeating to himself to make sure he was reading it correctly.

He started typing furiously, and Ziva knew that the momentum had changed next to her.

"Is everything okay, McGee?" she asked.

"Something is _very_ not right. I was able to get into Dave Lambrusco's email. He's Andrea Giovanni's son, and the nephew of Antoinelli Giovanni, which makes him Frankie Giovanni's cousin. He was supposed to email Frankie after the meet up that Gibbs and Tony just snatched him from, and he didn't, so Frankie has been emailing him non-stop. He's got like twenty emails here from various people. So, I hacked into _Frankie's_ email, and Frankie is putting something in place to try to make it seem like they're activating their plan, but it's a decoy."

"What is he doing?" Ziva said, pulling off the highway and into a grocery store parking lot.

"He's setting up what is going to look like a materials drop, but it's not, it's an ambush to see who it is that has the information on them. This isn't good. The guy they're sending in doesn't know it's not a real pick up, so they're sacrificing him for the cause. It looks like they weren't planning on keeping Parleurs anyway; that they were going to kill him after he picked up the material they needed."

"You keep saying material, McGee. What are we looking at?" Ziva demanded.

"They aren't saying. They just keep saying the "Portabella" and the "Squash". What the _hell_ does that mean?" he asked under his breath as he typed. "I'm trying to get back into the FBI's files. I need to know if they have something that could help us decipher what we're seeing."

"Which plan are they saying is which? Which is the decoy?"

Tim looked up and shook his head a second as he cleared his thoughts. "I'm not sure if either refers to the decoy, but if it's one of them, it's the "Squash". I guess it's to "squash" those of us who are coming after them? To put their foot down? Who knows."

"Portabella is a mushroom, McGee."

Tim stopped and looked at her curiously, then froze as his eyes widened. "You don't think…?"

"It is very possible that "Portabella" means a mushroom cloud. I do not know how they would possibly find the means to create and deliver an atomic bomb, but depending on who they were working with, anything is possible. I do not see how they would have been able to use Parleurs with that. What would he have been able to pick up for them, or transport for them, that could possibly help with creating an atomic bomb? And what did they think they were going to use Lieutenant Natoli for?" Ziva's critical words had Tim's mind running through history lessons like lines of code, and his own urgency increased.

"When they created the atomic bombs dropped on Japan, they created hundreds of similar bombs for trials with non-nuclear explosives in them that they referred to as "Pumpkin Bombs"," Tim explained, his thoughts racing.

"Pumpkins, squash," Ziva said with widening eyes, noting the relationship.

"They were the same shape, size and weight of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, but without the plutonium and uranium in them. Natoli may have had access to something that would give them enough information to get their hands on one of the pumpkin bombs. There was a time they were kept on the Naval bases, and the Navy was responsible for managing them. Worst case scenario is that they already have procured the pumpkin bomb, and were trying to get the plutonium and uranium to retrofit it to meet the atomic bomb requirements. Parleurs could have picked that up from a handler."

Tim ran his hand across the back of his neck as he thought.

"But why would they set off an atomic bomb?" he asked somewhat rhetorically. "It wouldn't just take out D.C., but the entire surrounding area as well, and the nuclear fallout would be horrendous. There is no way to evacuate the area of the entire mob family, and all of their contacts, and the people that are important to them. So why atomic?"

Ziva thought for a moment as she chose her words. "The science is probably far more advanced now, to a point that a smaller version of the bomb could be created and detonated without having to drop it from the sky. Maybe they are planning on setting off a miniature version of it, or a less toxic version, that will leave the city uninhabitable. If you take out the city of the nation's capital, you would destabilize the entire government, and leave the system floundering to accept any form of rule that came to be that could re-stabilize it, even if it means a rule of tyranny. It could be that whatever they are trying to use is being tailored for this purpose."

"All of the signs pointed to them having contacts in Lebanon. There are multiple factions there that would have the means and the people to create something like that," Tim said in dismay. "It's just incredibly impractical. Maybe they're going to threaten to set off something that wide-scale just to cause mass hysteria, and when that's in place, do something else."

Ziva followed his train of thought. "Could be a diversion of sorts. If there were a bomb threat in the D.C. that dangerous, all of the major political figures would be taken somewhere safe. They could be planning an attack on the safe zone, or on the vehicles used to transport them in an emergency."

"There's a series of tunnels under the city that are used for emergency evacuation of the White House staff and Pentagon staff. It could be them. The truth is, we don't know enough, and we really need to, and soon."

"What if we simply email Frankie back from Dave's email?" Ziva asked.

"We could lose our own source of incoming information and lead them to us," Tim said.

"You still have access to Frankie's messages. Are you able to trace where they're coming from? We can go to him."

"I've got a tracking program running each email sent and they're bouncing all over the place. I'd have to have one of the NCIS terminals to run it."

"Then we need to go back to NCIS," Ziva said, getting ready to turn the ignition over in the card.

"We can't leave Gibbs and Tony. They have no idea what's going on, and we can't lose them. If something happens and they ditch the car, we won't be able to find them again. We need to go get them, and let them know what's going on. I'm going to contact Abby. She can see what she can do to track the Giovanni's down."

Ziva pulled her hand from the ignition. "I will call one of my contacts and see if there is any chatter about materials moving out of Lebanon."

Tim nodded and brought up a program on his computer that he hoped would help mask his signal so that Abby wouldn't trace it back to him. He typed up a message to her explaining what he needed her to do.

_Apple,_

_I need for you to follow these instructions very specifically. Upstairs, in my bottom filing cabinet drawer is a laptop. I need for you to get it, and lock yourself in your office. When you open the laptop, you'll find the programs that I need for you to run a search from, but before you do, I need for you to run the program on the desktop called UnderSensed. It will take about three minutes. Open the computer, turn it on, use our password, and then before you do anything else, run UnderSensed. At that point email me back here, and I'll tell you what I need for you to do. _

_Bert_

"We've got about ten minutes before I'll get an email back from Abby. I'm going to keep working on this," Tim whispered, receiving a nod from Ziva who was talking quietly in Hebrew to someone on the phone.

He continued hacking into the FBI database, going back through the wormholes he'd made the last time he was in. A few minutes later, he was back into the file server that Fornell, Tony, and their team were using. He started running through the updated files, and when he got into Fornell's, he cringed. They were falling for the bait. He knew that if he got caught in that file he would be dead meat. He didn't have the waivers that would protect him, but he also thought that Fornell would appreciate the heads up. He thought for a moment. and then went back over to the pinging email from Abby on the secure laptop.

_Bert! Are you guys safe? Please tell me everyone is okay! -Apple_

Tim took a deep breath.

_We are for now. Listen very closely to what I need for you to do._

He proceeded to give Abby instructions on how to hack through to Frankie's email account, and then Dave's.

_I need to know where Frankie Giovanni's is coming from. There is NOTHING more important than this task right now, and I don't care what you think you're going to trip off by searching for this, just find it. That program needs a strong test run anyway. Run all the red lights, Apple. This is National Security._

Tim started copying the emails from both Frankie and Dave into a file on his computer, and a second smaller file in Fornell's personal folder on the FBI file server. He wasn't sure if he was making the right move, but it felt right in his gut, and he was learning that maybe his gut wasn't so bad at this game.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tony popped open the trunk, and looked down at the passed out man before him. He looked up at Jethro who was getting various things from the back seat of the car. He saw the slight tension in Jethro's shoulders that anyone would have mistaken for the stiff posture of a Marine, but he knew better. He knew that his lover's shoulders only got that rigid when he was on high alert.

He left the trunk open, stepped around the side of the car, reached forward over the mound of things Jethro had in his arms, and pulled him into a gentle kiss. Jethro stood there in shock, kissing Tony back, leaning forward when Tony started to pull away, unwilling to let go. His eyes fluttered open in surprise.

"Just to remind you that I'm still in here, and I'll still be in here when this is all said and done."

Jethro smiled softly at Tony. "I really wish we had another way, but there's no one else in the world I'd rather be here with."

Tony chuckled. "I bet you say that to all the girls," he joked in his fake flamboyant voice from earlier, making Jethro chuckle.

"Only you could make me laugh while doing something like this," he said with a smirk as he closed the car door.

Tony reached down into the trunk with a smile, pulling Dave up by the rope that tied his hands together behind his back. He hoisted him up and out of the trunk with a groan, and then dragged him into the building through the dirt and over the concrete barrier of a busted open metal and wood door.

The entire building wasn't much more than the size of Jethro's kitchen, dining and living rooms. It was merely an old storage building with a tiny office and tinier bathroom. Jethro rushed into the office to put his stuff down, and found it still had a desk and chair. Again, the chair was bolted to the floor. He sat the supplies down on the desk and shook his head, coming out to help Tony carry Dave's limp body into the room.

"This is getting really disconcerting. The FBI has rooms set up all over the country in abandoned buildings to torture people? You're starting to sound more like the CIA."

"Actually, this one is the CIA's. I just happen to know about it," Tony said with complete seriousness. "Which is why we need to start turning it inside out for bugs."

Jethro rolled his eyes, and started running his hand over and under every surface in the room. He pulled the drawer out of the desk and checked it over as well as the inside of where the drawers went. Tony had plopped Dave in the chair and started tying him down to the legs of it with wire from the kit. He started to consider the uses of the metal in his hands as he did, and realized he was already slipping into the dark zone.

When he stood up, he got into the tray under the knives, and pulled out the ephedrine, and then pulled the capped syringe from his pocket, uncapping it and sticking it into the bottle to retrieve a couple of CCs. Jethro turned and watched him curiously.

"Gonna wake him up, and hopefully make him a little anxious and paranoid," Tony said without meeting Jethro's eyes. He meant it when he said that he found his humanity in those eyes, and right now, he needed to turn it off. He did see Jethro nod in understanding though, before he turned around and pulled open the laptop that they had communicated with last time.

"Before you wake him up, let's gather some questions we want to make sure get answered," Jethro said, motioning for Tony to join him at the computer. He brought up an empty document, and Tony reached for the keys. Jethro moved out of the way, and let Tony start typing with the syringe between his teeth.

_Main priority: where is Frankie Giovanni, and what are they planning on doing?_

_What did he disclose to Parleurs? We let him know that he's dead, and that we need to know what he knew because he squealed. _

_What did he know about what he was going to go pick up?_

_Where was the rendezvous point and what time?_

_Who was he meeting? _

_What did they have?_

_How was it going to be used?_

_Where is Frankie Giovanni?_

Jethro took the keyboard with a nod.

_We still going to play it off like we're here on Frankie's behalf?_ He asked.

_I think at first, while the ephedrine is working on him. Then we'll reveal he's now the snitch, and see what happens. Get his bp to spike again at that point. I have Frankie's phone number from the phone. We could really push things and send him pictures of Dave as we go along, show Dave what we're doing too, so that way he knows that he doesn't have a prayer of Frankie saving him now that he's a captured snitch. He could tell us what we need to know at that point if he thinks it will keep him useful ,and keep us protecting him. We'll have to play it by ear. _

Jethro took the computer back.

_We don't want to do anything that could be tracked. _

Tony reached over.

_I'm starting to wonder if maybe we do. I know it's more dangerous for us, but maybe it's time we brought the fight to us, flush out the people we need. _

Jethro thought a minute. _Okay. Just remember that I have a wedding to go to in a few weeks, and I am looking forward to a piece of the cake, so don't do anything too dangerous. _

Tony smiled and reached for Jethro's hand, squeezing it. With one last look into his lover's eyes, he let go of the hand. He replaced it with the syringe, then walked over and jabbed the needle in Dave's arm. Less than a minute later, the man was gasping, and his eyes flung open as he jerked around on the chair. His eyes were wild as he scanned the room and found Tony and Jethro staring at him with disappointed looks on their faces.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he sputtered. "What the fuck did you cocksuckers do to me?!"

Tony smiled an evil little smile. "Nothing, compared to what we're _about_ to do to you." He circled the man, looking down at him, then walked over to the desk that Jethro was leaning back on. He reached into the tackle box, and pulled out the icepick that was stained with blood, holding it up to admire the red flaking on the handle so that Dave could see. "And nothing compared to what we did to your little blabbermouth friend, Parleurs."

Jethro watched the complexion, the eyes, and the body language of the man in the chair rather than watch Tony. He saw how much paler he got at the mention of Parleurs being tortured, and the insinuation that he had snitched. He also saw that he was shaking from the adrenaline and ephedrine. The sweat breaking out on his forehead was another sign that they were going to have to watch just how hyped up they got him, so their victim didn't croak of a stroke before they got to the good parts.

Tony slowly took a knife out of the tackle box with a wicked curve to the tip that shone in the light coming in through the small window. He watched the glint of the knife, and then looked up at Dave with a faux-innocent smile.

"We got word this week that your pet runner had been picked up by the feds," Tony started as he made his way back towards Dave, beginning his slow circles around the man tied to the chair. He took a quiet and deep breath as he prepared himself, sinking lower and lower into the darkest places within him. He knew if he were to pull off the rouse of being hired by the Giovannis to clean up their messes, he would have to be especially evil, and even pretend to enjoy what he was doing.

Jethro saw Dave's jaw drop and the frantic shaking of the man's head as he tried to turn and look at Tony. "No! I just heard from him the other day, and nothing had happened. He would have told me if he thought for a minute that the feds were coming around. He's done it before when he was dropping at the drive thru. He told me he couldn't drop for the next two weeks because he had a feeling he was about to be approached by an undercover. I respected that, and when I sniffed around, I found out that yeah, someone had been sitting on him, and he had avoided it. That's one of the reasons I had trusted him so much from so early on. Kid has insight, or I guess _had_?"

"Your _kid_ was more than willing to give the feds all sorts of information. We're already cleaning up your messes, and Frankie… well let's just say he isn't too happy about the whole thing."

"Who the fuck _are_ you people?" Dave asked in exasperation, struggling with his wire bindings, but not too much. Tony decided to up the ante.

"I guess you would say we're old school," he looked up at Jethro with a slight quirk of his lips from behind Dave where the man couldn't see. "We've been… let's say… _assisting_ families for years. The Giovannis have been good to me, and the Mirzoyev's have been very generous with Rich. In fact, they're paying for a good portion of our wedding."

Jethro looked at Tony for a moment before meeting Dave's frantic eyes. He was intrigued by Tony's knowledge of Russian mafia families, and he wondered if maybe Tony was starting to specialize in organized crime for the Feebs. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind to ask later, and he arched and eyebrow at Tony, ready to play the part.

"Temuri is fond of you. You make me happy, and my _assisting_ is a lot easier to clean up after when I'm happy."

Tony smiled a genuine smile, appreciative of both the emotional part of the statement, but also for being able to back him up with the relationship to the Russian family.

"I'm grateful. Anyway!" Tony said gleefully. "I've got a problem, and you're going to help me."

Dave's neck turned quickly to look at Tony.

"See, your little friend was sampling the merchandise when we picked him up. He'd exchanged information for his freedom with the Feds, and he got it. He decided to have a massive blow-out to go through the inventory you'd left with him, then he was going to take the cash and blow. When we got to him, he was coked out of his mind. Needless to say, he didn't last very long with his blood pumping that hard. So, here are your options."

Tony began running the tip of the knife across the back of Dave's neck, just hard enough to make an indent with the blade and barely knick him.

"You can tell me what he knew, or I can get it out of you the hard way. Frankie doesn't care if you come back to him at all at this point. He couldn't believe you'd let something get so screwed up this close to the grand event, or that you'd told him so much. I have a feeling though that maybe you hadn't told him as much as it seems, and that maybe we have a leak elsewhere. So, I'm going to show you some mercy. You tell me everything you told your punk, and I'll see what I can do about _letting_ you disappear, instead of _making_ you disappear. It would be so much easier on all of us, and besides, I'd hate to ruin my favorite shirt," he added with a pull on his cuffs. "It's not the Armani or Zenga, but it's so comfortable."

Jethro watched on in amazement. Tony was playing the part well, and his confidence was actually attractive, despite what they were using it to do. He caught himself checking out Tony's ass as he made his loop around the bound man in front of them, and had to pull himself back to the moment. He saw that Dave was hanging on to Tony's every word, and Tony's powerful aura was greatly overshadowing anything Dave brought to the table while hyped up on the ephedrine.

"I think we can work something out," Dave said eagerly. "I mean, I really hadn't told him much, so maybe we do have a leak somewhere. He had no idea what he was going to be getting, though I was going to tell him today. He wasn't going to live through the drop off, so it wasn't really going to be that much of a threat. He would have been exposed anyway, so it wouldn't have mattered, but I was going to make it quick for him. He'd been a good kid for the most part. He just wanted the cash, and he kept it clean. He knew a good thing when he had it, and laid low." Tony nodded for him to continue, while seeming disinterested.

"I didn't have to tell him much, would just drop off the phones and laptops, or have a runner do it, and he'd program them. I'd tell him where to ship them, and he would. He'd send 'em in bundles most of the time, not even directly to family members or clients, just back to me, or to the house on H Street where everything else goes. I'm not really sure how he would do it, but whatever way he did it, he'd never been traced back to his place. He's lived in the same crib since two months after he started rolling in the dough from running errands and doing tasks for us."

Jethro knew that the guy's heart was probably still racing on the drugs, and he was rambling furiously. Tony knew it too and took advantage of it.

"You weren't going to give him any warning about the exposure? That's cold. I think I probably would have if I were going to tell him what it was, because otherwise he probably would have suspected you didn't care enough and were planning on killing him once he found out. Maybe I'm giving him too much credit."

"I'm sure it would have come up in the conversation, and I would've thought of something. It's not like they were going to hand the shit directly to him. It was going to be secure, obviously. It's just that he would have been sitting on it for a couple of hours, and that kind of exposure is different than the two minutes it would take to transfer to our care. Besides, I'm sure you know Khan doesn't give a damn about his own little fuckers. They wouldn't have been protected. They'll feel it later, dumbass motherfuckers, but you know Khan."

"Heh, yeah. That's really all you told him?" Tony asked, looking at Jethro who was still staring at Dave.

"Yeah, I mean, he didn't care about the family business, just his own business, you know what I mean? That's why I liked him so much. He wasn't one of those nosy motherfuckers. He just did his thing, rolled his cash up at the end of the day, and went on his way."

"I don't believe you," Tony said as he let the knife draw blood on Dave's shoulder blade.

"I don't know what else you'd wanna know! Wait! Just tell me what else you want to know! What is happening that I'm missing here? Tell me what's going on that makes you think the punk would've known more, and I can confirm or deny."

"That's the problem. See, I don't believe you'd confirm anything. You'd just keep denying how you ran your big mouth, say that you didn't tell him about how you've managed to find a way to get your hands on what we needed, how your cocky mouth didn't spill over." Tony pulled Dave's hair, jerking his head back hard so that their eyes met, Tony leering down at him manically.

"Why would I need to impress _him?_ I'm David Rinieri Lambrusco, goddamn it! I don't have to impress anybody! They need to be impressing me! All of them! All of those little cock-sucking shitheads! _Me_!"

Even tied to the chair with his head pulled back to an inhumanly possible angle, he was fiercely arrogant, and Tony started contemplating how to break him down. Jethro beat him to it though.

"Ah, now I get it," Jethro's voice quietly rang out through the small space, making Dave's eyes shift to try to see him. Tony jerked his head back even further, still staring down. "They had a thing going on. That's why he talked. I get it, I do. Pillow talk is stronger than truth serum, I mean, that's how we ended up like this in the first place." Jethro continued leaning back against the desk like it was nothing.

"WHAT?!" Dave tried to yell, the repulsion obvious in his voice. Tony smirked and let his head go so that he could sit up, then went and stood next to Jethro at the desk.

"Oh! Yeah! That would explain the constant references to cock sucking!" He turned and leaned against the desk, his hand on Jethro's back. "You and the kid had something worked out. I get it, I get it. And at some point, he got jilted, and then he got pissed, and he squealed. You really are a fucking idiot."

"NO!" Dave yelled again, just as vehemently. "We didn't have anything going on like, like, like _that! _I would _never_. I'm only into chicks!"

"Heh, yeah, that's what I thought, too," Jethro said, casting a look at Tony. "Then someone comes along…"

Tony smiled a genuine smile, unable to hold it back at the way Jethro's eyes glistened.

"…and they just understand you," Tony finished for him.

"Ew, god, please, can we cut it with the mushy shit already?" Dave groaned, rolling his eyes. Both Tony and Jethro stared at him with death stares, and then Jethro's voice went cold.

"My turn," he said, strolling up to Dave. "I'm done playing around. There are things that you've done, things that he's done, and things that we're going to do to you until we sort it out. Capisce?"

Dave suddenly looked terrified, and Tony found himself feeling a jolt of pride at his future-husband's ability to command the respect and attention of anyone he's ever interrogated. This was his specialty, even without the violence, and he'd always loved watching it. He was doubly proud that Jethro had remembered their discussion on the actual pronunciation of 'capisce'. It shouldn't have surprised him, but the conversation it was a part of was important to him, and he had to fight back the smile threatening to break out across his face.

"Capisco," Dave said in a choked voice.

Tony felt a chill start at the base of his spine and work its way up, but he managed to suppress the shiver. He knew that things were about to get ugly, and he had to put 'Tony' away in his safe place, and bring back the man who knew over a hundred ways to inflict pain with an icepick.


	19. Chapter 19

_Been a rough few days my loves, so if I haven't gotten to reply to your awesome reviews, I apologize! I check for them frequently, and they always make me smile :) Warning! More torture in this chapter. Proceed with caution!_

Chapter 19

Ja'Rell wasn't feeling quite right about the intel that he'd received. His stomach was queasy, but Pammy was so relieved to finally have some kind of a break in the case, that she'd run right to Fornell with it. They had looked it over, and Ja'Rell had voiced his concerns that his contact might not be legit, but in the end, they decided that they had no choice but to go for it. He and Pammy were packing their things up, and would be heading out soon. He had enough stuff with him, but Pammy had to run home, so he sat back down at his computer and began researching furiously. Something wasn't fitting together, and he was desperate to know what it was.

He wished he knew what Tony was doing. He felt like he should have been there with him, and that if he was working on their case, which he suspected he was, that he could be an asset. He tried to call him again, and then tried emailing him. There was no response. He left a voicemail while he had the time to without Pammy being in the room.

"Hey, Tony. I'm not sure where you're at, but I wanted to update you on our case. Something is breaking loose, and we're going to pull the string and see what unravels. I don't feel quite right about it, and I wish I had another set of eyes on it. Pammy is pushing to follow it, and Fornell agrees it's worth a look, so we're going in. I just… I really wish I knew where you were man. I'll try to update you as we go. Hope you're watching your back."

He disconnected and closed his eyes, leaning forward with the phone tapping his forehead as he thought. He really wanted to know what was going on, and wished he had someone else covering his back except Pammy on this one. He loved working with Pammy, but this case was getting to her, and she was just too eager to be done with it. She wanted to get out of D.C. and back to Cali, and he couldn't blame her, but he felt her focus slipping. He'd been trying to compensate over the past month, but things were getting to be too much. They had been partners for years now, and he wanted things back to the way they were when they were in San Diego together. That's when he had an idea.

He brought up the NCIS databases, and pulled up the email address for Abby Scuito. He opened a blank email and began typing.

_Hi Abby,_

_You don't know me, but I'm FBI Agent Ja'Rell Thomas. I've been working with Agents Fornell and DiNozzo for a little over a year now on the Natoli case. I don't know where Tony went, but he disappeared a few days ago, and I wanted to try to get word to him that my partner, Pammy Brandonburg, and I are being tagged in- we're about to infiltrate. I know that the two of you are really close, and I'm hoping you have some kind of pipeline to be able to get the word to him so that we don't cross paths in the wrong kind of way. _

_I don't really know why I'm telling you this, but I feel like I need to let someone know, so if you can get this to Tony as well, I'd really appreciate it. I'm not sure our intel is good. I'm nervous as shit about following through on it, but we really don't have a choice. We're getting down to the wire on this one, and if we don't find a way to blow it wide open soon, we're all in huge trouble. I don't know how much he's told you, but consider this me tagging you in. I don't trust hardly anyone anymore after what I've seen on this case. Hell, I don't even feel like I can trust my own partner right now, but I know Tony trusts you, and I trust Tony for some odd reason. _

_I know you're probably already pinging me back right now to make sure this is really me, and I appreciate the security. You can call me if you want to verify who I am. I've been told if anyone can find my number, it's you and Special Agent McGee. Pammy and Fornell don't know I'm reaching out, but I think they're blinded by the possibility of finally moving forward. I guess I'm just scared, Abby, and I know if Tony was scared, he'd come to you. _

_My gut's churning. You ever get that feeling? Like everything's about to go seriously wrong? Just tell Tony we're coming, and ask him to let me know what's going on. I'm not giving up my personal phone to Fornell. I'm going to be turning over a decoy. I'm sorry to pull you in like this, but like I said, something is wrong, and I don't have anyone here in D.C. to turn to like I would back home in San Diego. _

_Wish us luck, and send prayers if you are inclined. _

_Ja'Rell_

Ja'Rell sent the email, and then deleted it from his email client, cleared his trash folder, his cookies, his history, and then went as deeply into the system as his minimal hacking abilities would allow to delete any trace of the email. He could be tried for treason under the circumstances, and he prayed that the pardon would cover his ass, but he didn't know for sure. He suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and jumped.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Who is this?" a female's voice demanded.

"Is this Abby? This is Ja'Rell Thomas."

"This is. Tony isn't alone out there. You need to be careful."

"When you say alone, do you mean he has back up with him, or he has trouble?" Ja'Rell asked quietly, leaving the office with his stuff to head for a more secure place to talk.

"He has back up, and back up that he doesn't even know he has. Be careful not to get them caught in the crossfire," she warned.

"Abby, I can't thank you enough for getting in touch with me," he said softly. "I'm about to freak out here. I don't know if what I got today was good or not, and they're all swarming over it like honey, but I think it might be a decoy of sorts. Things aren't lining up, and you know that moment where you get that clue, that missing piece, and everything suddenly locks together? I'm not getting that feeling this time. It's all disjointed, and I really think something is wrong."

"Have you told Fornell that? I mean, he's actually pretty reasonable when you get to know him."

"Yeah, but we need to move on this so bad that they're willing to follow the bad intel to flush out the real plot. Budging even one step closer at this point is like giving oxygen to a dying man, and we're so close to being out of breath."

"I know you probably can't tell me anything, because Tony really couldn't either, but is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"Just be there if I need you, and get those messages to Tony. Do you have some way to get in touch with him?"

Abby made an uncertain noise in her throat and swallowed. "Maybe. It would have to be the utmost emergency though, because it would blow their back up's cover. They don't know they have been followed by our agents the entire time. I don't think they were expecting them to be so…"

"Ballsy?" Ja'Rell said with a chuckle. He couldn't imagine McGee and Ziva pissing off Gibbs like that. That would be like him and Pammy stalking Tony.

"Let's go with that," Abby said with a smile. She decided that she like Ja'Rell. He was being incredibly honest and open with her, and she appreciated someone being that way after how in the dark she'd felt the past few days. "Here's the thing. I have an open line of communication now with McGee. I'll tell him what you've said, and if he feels that he can get the information to Tony, or that it's important enough to, then he'll tell them. We're working another angle right now that could solve your problem, so I'll let you know as soon as I have a chance."

"You're the best, Abby! That's more than I could ever ask for. Don't do anything you don't feel comfortable with, but if you could just let him know what I'm up against back here, I'd really appreciate it, and if you need me for any reason, contact me. Is this the best number to get in touch with you at if something happens?"

"Yes. It's my personal cell, as opposed to my work cell, which is probably constantly monitored. You can text me here if you need to, or call. I have to go though, because my searches need my attention."

"Thanks again, Abby."

"Take care of yourself, Ja'Rell, and take care of Tony and Gibbs for me, too." She disconnected the phone before Ja'Rell could reply, but it confirmed that it was Gibbs that was with Tony, and that not only made him feel better, but made him wonder if his suspicions about how Tony had ended up at the FBI were correct.

He put his phone on silent, locked the screen, and slipped it into his sock. He got into his locker in the gym where he was hiding from Pammy, and pulled out a black bag with a drawstring around it. He found the right key on his key ring, pulled the lockbox out of the bag and opened it. He retrieved a bone-handled stone-carved knife, and strapped the sheath around his shin.

He then took out the back-up cell phone he kept in there in case his was ever destroyed while working a case. He turned it on, made sure it had a few numbers in it that weren't in his good cell a month ago when he'd last backed it up, and he reset the password on it. He then turned it back off.

He also pulled out a second wallet. He opened it up to make sure it had what he was looking for in it. There was a fake ID, and two credit cards that went with it, a hundred dollars cash, and a few gift cards to various places he thought he might be able to use to keep a paper trail off his back for a few days.

With that tucked into his back pocket, and his jacket pulled down over it, he took a deep breath and locked the locker door. He knew it was crazy, but he felt more confident and infinitely safer knowing that Abby would have his back. She reminded him of Kimball back in San Diego, and that was always a good thing. He headed for the stairs to go back up to Fornell's office to drop off his belongings and meet with Pammy.

NCIS0NCIS0NCIS0NCIS

Abby sat down and emailed McGee. The search results had put Frankie Giovanni's emails all over the map, making it look like it was coming from his phone as he drove around the city. His last known location though was the airport, and she had to wonder just how correct that was. She'd also started running searches that tracked the cohorts that he was emailing with. They would be finished soon.

_Bert-_

_I have pinpointed the most recent email coming from Dulles Int'l. I'm already putting together the BOLO. Just let me know if we need to send it. I'm also running searches on the other people in the chain of emails. I received an email personally from Ja'Rell Thomas. He was asking for help. Apparently, some intel came in today that he believes was bad, but Fornell is sending him and Agent Brandonburg in anyway. He's not happy, doesn't feel safe, and has asked for our assistance in getting word to Tony that he feels like he's walking into a trap, and that he might get tangled up with whatever Tony is doing. I told him that I would let you know, and that if you had the opportunity, you'd pass it along._

_-Apple_

Tim received the email on the other end of the line, and shook his head. He'd been reading through the case files that Fornell had stored, and had ventured into the other agents' files that were working on the case, comparing it to the emails that kept coming through. He felt close to finding that elusive final clue, and he was afraid of what the full picture would be when he did.

_Apple,_

_I need for you to run through the files and find out if any of the Pumpkin Bombs have gone missing from storage in the past year._

_-Bert_

It only took about thirty seconds for the email to come back.

_**PUMPKIN BOMBS?! WTH MCGEE?!**_

Tim shook his head. _So much for "Bert",_ he thought.

_Will you just check please? I can't because I don't want to connect what we're doing to the agency._

_I'm checking, but PUMPKIN BOMBS? Are you being serious right now? Let me make a call to a friend and get a real time count._

Tim froze. He wasn't sure how good of an idea that was when this was just a theory, but he decided it couldn't hurt more than it could help, and he let her do it. It took about ten minutes for her to come back.

_Timmy? How did you know that?_

"Fuck."

Ziva's head snapped over to look at him with complete shock. "That does not sound good, McGee. Why are you cursing?"

_How many, Abs?_

"Abby just got a real time count of the Pumpkin Bombs in the arsenal. Something's wrong."

_There are two missing. How in THE HELL do two freaking potential atomic bombs go __**missing?!**_

"They have two, Ziva. They have two of the Pumpkins. What the hell are they doing with them?"

_McGee? All of the other search results are coming back. I brought up the map, and they're all heading for the airports and the train stations. What's going on?_

That's when the pieces clicked together. They'd gone ahead and finished what they had to do without Dave and his minion.

_Abby, go get Ducky. I'm activating 512. Get the hell out of D.C.- NOW. Take my laptop. It has a satellite card built in, and a DC adapter is in that bag it was in. _

_OMG you're serious. What's the password, McGee?_

_Margaritaville_

_OMG YOU'RE REALLY SERIOUS! Are Palmer, Breena and the twins far enough out of the way in Pittsburg?_

_Yeah, but don't go there, Abs. You know where to go. Now- GO! I'll find you. _

_Bye, McGee. Be safe. I love you guys._

_I know you do, Abby. We will. _

"Come on, Ziva! We gotta get to Tony and Gibbs before they kill Dave. We need to get information out of them, and Tony needs to have Fornell pull his team. They're walking into a trap."

Ziva had the key in the ignition, and was halfway down the road before McGee could finish what he was saying. He slipped his seatbelt on with alternating hands as the other typed, and started loading the emails from him and Abby into Fornell's folder.

"What is going on, McGee?!"

"They have two of the bombs, and everyone that's part of the email chain are getting out of town. Abby tracked their emails to airports and train stations. They're evacuating. Even if they didn't get the materials to atomize the bombs, they could be filled with a number of other things that would make D.C. inhabitable. We have two priorities: The first is getting to Tony and Gibbs to inform them about what's going on. The second is to find where in the hell those bombs are and how they've been rigged to explode without dropping them from the air."

"What if they _are_ being dropped from the air, McGee? There are plenty of ways to get a bomb into the air."

"Not a bomb this size. It would have to be dropped from a carrier or something. They're almost as big as the front end of a medevac chopper. It's not like they could just drop it from a crop duster."

"How are they activated? By forceful contact in the drop, a timer, what?"

"I can tell you that they have a fuse in them, but it's not like the kind of fuse you light with a match. It's ignited by a controller I believe, but how that controller can be manipulated, and how well they do exploding from a standstill position, I'm not familiar with.

"I'm hoping Gibbs will know a little more about them. He's got that sort of random information tucked away in a pocket cheat-sheet or written on his arms or something. The man can tell you how bombs and weapons work in explicit detail, but he can't program a coffee maker. I don't know how, but what I do know is that we need to barge in on them, and I'm not looking forward to seeing how far they've gotten with David Lambrusco."

"No, that will not be pleasant, but it will be necessary. I think they will forgive us, though, and that is a bigger concern to me."

"Me, too." Tim kept typing, dropping things into Fornell's file that he'd scrounged, and he began reading over the report that Fornell had just finished updating.

"It's like we're feeding each other polar opposite information here. I don't think he's even accessing the folder. It's like he has the case file up in a different program than what I'm using, and is just using an update feature. Crap. He's not going to see this until we contact him directly."

"We should wait for Tony to do that when we get to him," she said.

"Yeah, I planned on it. This is what he's added:

_On October 24__th__, 2015, Agent Ja'Rell Thomas was contacted by a source that stated he had seen multiple cars and trucks arrive at a warehouse in the B District. These cars were loaded with members of the Giovanni family, and the trucks held large crates that they oversaw the unloading of and storage into the warehouse. Satellites show multiple heat signatures in the building as well as a very large object letting off a heat signature that could be some kind of bomb. _

_Agents Thomas and Brandonburg are going to approach the building, gain access, and attempt to ascertain what the object is and whether or not it is a threat to the general public. In the process, they have been cleared to remove any member of the Giovanni family that appears a threat as well as any of their guards. If they get any shot at Frankie Giovanni that doesn't put one of their lives in jeopardy, they have been instructed to take it, and are hereby instructed to shoot to kill. At this time, they have turned over their identities and are travelling lightly in case they are discovered and frisked by members of the LCN, and if need be, they are to go into deep cover to locate Frankie Giovanni and remove him as a threat to national security under the Patriot Act, and will be protected in doing so under a pardon signed by the President of the United States of America."_

Tim sighed heavily, and swallowed.

"Abby was right, and Ja'Rell was right. They are sending them into a trap."

"Ja'Rell was right?" Ziva asked in confusion as she turned so hard Tim slammed into the door, but he was unfazed by it as he continued working.

"Abby got an email from Ja'Rell Thomas a few minutes ago asking us to pass on the message to Tony that Fornell was sending him and Agent Brandonburg into a trap, but that they didn't really have any way around it. I don't think they realize just how dangerous this is."

"We are still ten minutes out. What can we do?" Ziva asked.

"I've sent Abby and Ducky to 512. They're leaving town. All we can do right now is get to them as quickly as possible, and hope that they can break Dave so that he tells us the real plan and location of the bombs."

"McGee! Should we not warn the Director so he can get the President and the officials to safety?" she asked.

"We don't know what the plan even is yet. We can't create mass hysteria and evacuate when that might very well be in their plan. We just need to wait until we have a direction to tell everyone to run."

Ziva hit the highway again, and floored it. McGee felt his stomach drop as the car revved and jerked forward until cars were flying past them in a blur he was too busy typing to see. He was finally distracted when a new email popped up.

_I've grabbed Ducky, and we're on the way to the bank. We've signed out a car, which is something I've never had to do before, but neither of us really have a car meant for getting away in a hurry. I text Ja'Rell and let him know what info we have so far. I hope that's okay, but I won't leave him to the wolves. He needs someone on his side through this. He said he doesn't trust anyone at the FBI anymore, not even his partner. Get back to us in one piece Timmy._

Tim swallowed hard. It was so hard not to love her when she acted this way and called him Timmy. All of the old feelings tried to creep up, and he struggled to push them back down where they belonged. Now was not the time or the place. He glanced up at the fierce look of determination on Ziva's face, and he thought about how she had asked him if he had ever been in love. He sighed and went back to typing as he tried to find more useful information. Nothing was more important than this case right now. If they didn't live through it, he wouldn't have to sort it all out anyway.

NCIS0NCIS0NCIS0NCIS

Tony watched as Jethro circled Dave slowly and asked questions.

"Let's start with some simple questions," he said. "When was the last time you saw Parleurs?"

"I last saw him two weeks ago, and I last talked to him a few days later via email."

"And what did you say when you talked to him and emailed him?"

"I let him know that we needed him for a special project. That it was a simple drop and load, but it was going to mean a lot to us, we needed someone we could trust on it, and that the payment was twenty g's upon delivery."

"And what did he say?"

"I told you, he's all about the cash. He asked me when he needed to meet to go over the details. I told him I'd email him in regards to when we'd meet again, and to clear a few days after the meeting."

"A few days?"

"I had to make it so that no one went looking for him after we offed him, you know? So, yeah. I told him to clear a few days." Dave shrugged like it was nothing, so Jethro and Tony schooled their reactions as well.

"He had no idea what you were sending him after, or what it was going to be used for?" he asked.

"No. Like I said, I wasn't going to tell him 'til we was together, in person, and he didn't care enough to ask. I don't know how many times that I have to tell you that he didn't give a shit about this stuff. All he cared about was the money. If he got his cash, he was happy. He had no idea what would be in the box, and he didn't bother to ask." Tony tucked "the box" into his memory, and he was sure Jethro was doing the same.

"He really had no idea ofthe dangers involved?" Tony chanced. He'd suspected it was biological or chemical with the connection to the Lebonese factions, and Dave's earlier responses to his questions on exposure had proved to be dead on, so he went with it.

"No. He knows not to try to open anything I've ever sent him after. I had the boy trained, and well, and then you jackholes had to go and off his sorry ass." Dave shook his head, and Tony had to resist taking the icepick, throwing it across the room and through his throat, but he restrained himself. He'd been called much worse by people he actually cared about and lived, so this would roll off, too.

Jethro started talking again, and Tony settled back against the desk.

"It looks like your cousin decided to change the details on you anyway after he sent us to meet with you. I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Wait? Frankie changed the meeting? To when?" Dave suddenly asked frantically, trying to sit forward.

"This morning, not that it matters to you."

"Oh, FUCK! We gotta go! We gotta get out of here, like, right this minute, right now! I don't care if you put me back in the fucking trunk, but get me the fuck out of this city!" Dave started flopping as hard as he could to try to free himself from the chair, struggling hard against the wire so that it was cutting into him, and Tony and Jethro looked at each other with slightly wider eyes than before at the way the man was suddenly so adamant about _their_ escape. "What's the matter with you two!? Why aren't you moving? Why are we even _here?_" he asked, then stopped his moving. "Jesus Fucking Christ. He didn't tell you, did he? He didn't tell you what he was having us pick up. You fucking idiots! He's going to bomb the city! We gotta get outta here! He's going to take the city _down_, and us with it! You're never going to get your money, you're never going to get to have your fucking wedding, you're never going to watch your little faggot babies run around in the yard, or whatever in the fuck you think you're eventually going to do, BECAUSE YOU'LL BE DEAD!"

Tony moved behind the desk nonchalantly, and started typing on the computer. Jethro joined him, and they started a conversation back and forth in type.

_Do we believe him?_

_ I do, but he doesn't know we're lying. We interrupted the meeting, so we're finally one step ahead of the game. _

_Again, he doesn't know that. So what do you want to do now?_

_ I think we can use this as a great excuse to get the information out of him about what exactly is going on here and let him know that he needs to start explaining now or he's going to sit right here and die._

_Agreed. I'm worried about the integrity of what we're being told. We're going to have to be viciously blunt in regards to how serious we are about getting physical with his sorry ass._

_ Are you ready?_

_Yeah. _

Jethro watched as Tony picked up both the knife and the icepick, and walked over to Dave.

"What is the plan?" Tony asked.

"The plan _was_ to blow this fucking city apart with the bomb they were piecing together. The materials from today's drop were all that's needed to finish the job."

Tony nodded. "And what exactly were those materials?"

"What do you mean? You know what they were!"

Tony wasn't in the mood to play anymore. He took the icepick and plunged it into Dave's chest right below the collarbone of his right shoulder. Dave screamed as the blood started coming out of him.

"I guess you didn't hear me. Let's try this again. The materials. What were they?"

"The fucking plutonium and uranium! Jesus Christ! What the fuck did you do that for?" Tony pulled the icepick back out and Dave screamed again.

"I'm not in the mood to play games with you anymore. I want direct and full answers from here on out. Otherwise, I really hope you've had your tetnus shot."

"Got it," Dave ground out between teeth crushed together tightly as he took deep breaths.

"Good. What was their delivery system?"

"Bombs of course you fucktard!"

Tony took the hook ended knife, and started running the blade along Dave's jawbone and across his lip.

"FUCK! STOP!" Dave screamed. "They're old military bombs! They called them Pumpkin Bombs. Used 'em to test how they'd have to drop the big ones. They're not radioactive, but they are still powerful, and all you have to do is change 'em slightly, and add the plutonium and uranium to make them much more than what they are. They go from blowing up a stadium to blowing up a city with very few modifications."

"How many are there?" Tony asked, moving to stand behind Dave and stare at Jethro who was typing stuff into the computer.

"Two, just in case one fails."

"Where are they being detonated?" Tony asked.

"They _were_ going to be delivered to the Smithsonian and George Washington University. With so many deliveries in and outta those places all day long in big crates, no one would even realize what they were until it was too late. The bombs were gonna be put back together on the flatbed trucks they came in on, then they were going to be re-crated, and the trucks were going to be left in the loading areas while the drivers hauled ass. If they're changing the game plan though, there's no telling where they'd put 'em. I know they were talking about just driving the damn thing down and putting it on the White House front lawn, but they'd have to actually bring people back from Lebanon with them that would be willing to die with the bombs, and the crazy-ass mother fuckers they had to deal with to get this shit were bad enough as it was."

"What other options did you have for backup plans?" he asked.

"Hell, I don't know man. We just-AHHHHHHHH!"

Tony drove the icepick down so that it left four puncture wounds in Dave's thigh, and then finally wedged it behind the kneecap. Jethro swallowed hard as he tried not to flinch. He could hear something crack and he suspected it was the kneecap itself, and he raised an eyebrow at Tony as Dave whimpered, tears streaming down his face as he shook his head violently.

"There was… there was the metro station on New York Ave, and the Metropolitan Warehouse, and the Navy Yard, and I can't think to remember because you've got a fucking icepick stuck in my goddamned leg!" Tony looked at the icepick like he had never seen it.

"Oh, sorry!" He jerked the pick out, and Dave yelled again. "Now do you remember?"

"One of the hospitals, I think Providence. And I never knew which hotel, but they were thinking one of the bigger hotels because of how many shipments they got."

"Okay, if you think of some more, let me know. In the meantime, what about the family? What were they planning on doing to get away?"

"Everyone had their own preferred method. A lot of people were planning on flying out to Vegas for an impromptu family reunion, and a lot of the men were going to put their families on the trains up the coast to Maine for another version of the same reunion. We've all been shipping our belongings out of town for weeks. I was supposed to go to Vegas with Frankie and Uncle Antoinelli, but apparently that was all a rouse."

Tony thought he looked genuinely hurt, and he almost felt sorry for him. He knew what it was like to not have the love and attention of a father, and it looked like Dave's uncle was the closest thing he had to it.

"If something were to go wrong, how were they to stop the bombs?" he asked.

"Hell if I know! Honestly!" he added as the icepick started for his arm. Tony stopped as he decided he was telling the truth. The man in front of him didn't seem to have the intellect for the engineering required to dismantle a bomb and piece it back together as an atomic nightmare.

"Where are the bombs being kept while they dismantled them and added the plutonium and uranium?" Jethro asked from behind the desk where he was still typing into the computer.

"In an old warehouse over on Bayside Road. I can't believe that fucker left me here to die. You know, I'd love to show up at the other end of his craps table, and watch him shit himself."

"Yeah, well, I can believe it. I can believe he'd do a lot of things. There's no room for a heart in this business. This is supposed to be my last score, my last time out. Can't do this job with a heart," Tony said.

"Heart? What the hell does "heart" have to do with it? This is business, plain and simple. I'm a part of the business, you're a part of the business, and they wanted all of us out of their business." Dave's voice started trailing off again, and Tony wondered if he was starting to suffer from all the blood he was losing. He was still dripping from his chin and his shoulder was a clotted mess of ick. His entire pants leg was saturated as well, and Tony wondered if he'd misjudged and nicked the femoral artery. He imagined there would have been even more if he had though, so he kept going.

"Who did they have working on the bombs?"

"Stephanie Giovanni and Rakhamal Batish. Steph is brilliant. Her parents weren't too keen and all on her getting her degree in a man's field, but when she was able to step forward and take over the project, they were so proud of her. Batish is one of the more sympathetic of the faction they were working with in Lebanon. He came back with 'em when they went over the first time." Tony knew they were losing him. His voice was slurring, and his face was going pale. The blood loss was just too much. He was surprised. Compared to Wallingford, they hadn't done anything to him.

"What do you know about this kid named Natoli?" Tony remembered to ask. The question made Dave chuckle.

"Natoli? He's so far down the family line that he wasn't even worth the trouble. His mom was banging some of the crew though, so they took him under their wing when he was a kid, and then when he ran his mouth, they offed him in jail; made an example outta him. Heard they blew up his house or something, I don't know. That's so far out of my jurisdiction it's not funny. I keep to my part of town, and the family business. That's all across town."

"Heard his brother or something was in the military, and that we were going to use him to help get the materials. Did that end up happening?" Jethro asked.

"Not that I've heard anything about. They're all like sixth cousins or something. I don't mess with that shit. Maybe I should've. I have a feeling it's too late now."

"Why's that?" Tony asked.

"Fuck! If they didn't take their trusty paid sadists with 'em, or the third in line for the throne, they sure as hell aren't going to round up all the cousins!" Dave started chuckling manically, and they knew he was losing it.

They suddenly heard a vehicle come rushing up and skid on the gravel. Two car doors opened and slammed shut, and feet came running into the building. All three men looked panicked, and Tony and Jethro grabbed their guns.


	20. Chapter 20

_So sorry for the delay folks! Been prepping for the Out of the Basement sequel, and couldn't bring myself to go edit this! I'll try and make it up to you ;)_

Chapter 20

"Please don't let them find me talking to you guys! They'll finish the job!" Dave whispered pitifully.

"Keep your mouth shut, or _I'll_ finish the job!" Tony whispered back.

Jethro edged towards the door and looked out, but he couldn't see anything from his angle.

"I bet they're in there," they suddenly heard a male's voice say. Jethro rolled his eyes at Tony, and Tony shook his head as they headed out into the main warehouse.

"You! Stay here!" Tony hollered at Dave.

The two men met a frantic McGee and Ziva in the main part of the warehouse.

"Congratulations, you found us," Tony said sarcastically.

Tim and Ziva raised an eyebrow at each other and scoffed. "We've been following you guys since you left the Hoover building the other day, and we had your car bugged the first day with both sound and GPS. Give us a little more credit than that. That's not why we're here. You need to call Fornell, and now."

"What?" Tony asked in confusion, looking at Jethro while he got his phone out of his pocket.

"Does the Director know you're out here, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"We don't have time for this discussion right now," McGee said, not even looking at Gibbs. "Call Fornell. Tell him to pull Thomas and Brandonburg. They're walking into a trap. I have a feeling a bad one."

"Oh, shit," Tony said as he started piecing together the second phone he had in his pants leg pocket, knowing that Fornell would answer that one first. He had to wait for it to boot up, but then he started texting.

_Pull the doors. Pushing won't open them. Only trapdoors open when pushed. _

All four people stared at his phone for two minutes before he finally got a text back.

_You are very wise, or I am very foolish. How can we decide?_

"Tell him I've uploaded the proof into the case file on the FBI servers. The one with his name on it," Tim said.

_There are many books of tales in the library, but mine is bound with a seal to which only you can break. _

"Do you two normally speak in such a cheesey code?" Jethro asked from over his shoulder.

"Not really," Tony answered.

"It may be cheesey, but it's getting the job done, and right now that's all that matters" Tim said with a shrug, eyes trained on the screen of Tony's phone.

It seemed to take forever for Fornell to text back, and in the meantime they addressed the elephant in the room.

"You've had us bugged? Really?" Tony asked with a scrunched face as he looked at Tim. Then another thing dawned on him, and his eyes widened. "Then you two know we're back together."

"Yes, and we are also aware that you are engaged?" Ziva said with a hint of a question.

Both men nodded.

"Something else we should probably wait to talk about until we're elsewhere. We still have live prey in the other room," Tony said quietly.

"Got it. What do you know so far?" Tim asked quietly so that it didn't echo through the empty shell of a building.

"They are redesigning two old World War II bombs to make them atomic, and are planning on setting them off in the city. When we took Dave, it postponed the pick-up of the nuclear materials. They were going to have Parleurs go make the drop. We have him believing that we've actually been hired by the Giovanni family to interrogate him because Parleurs ratted them out. He has no idea we're feds, and he's currently sitting in that room bleeding out." Tony looked at his phone for the hundredth time that minute, but still no text.

"I have the orders ready to go out on the computer in there to have the locations that he's given us for detonation on alert. We delayed the drop, but we don't know by how much," Gibbs added.

"I don't think you stopped it," Tim said, looking over at Ziva for some support and strength as he told them the bad news. "Everyone involved is leaving town. They're getting the hell out of here, and now. It's going down. We need to get those orders out, and upgrade them to full on evacuations."

"Shit!" Tony said as he turned to go send them, but his phone suddenly chimed.

"_You are very wise indeed. I believe a token is in order for your minion",_ Tony read aloud with a loud cackle.

"MINION!?" Tim asked in disbelief. "I am NOBODY'S _minion_."

Tony kept laughing, and as he wiped his eyes, he saw the smile that Jethro was shooting McGee. He looked over to see McGee blush, and he knew he was missing something. He looked to Ziva for an answer, but all she did was tap her fingertip along her lip with her arms half crossed and stare at McGee.

Tony's phone chimed again. He looked down and cocked his head to the side.

_Forgive me. I forgot that you need two tokens, correct?_

Tony looked up at Tim. "Vance _doesn't_ know you're gone, does he?"

"Oh, by now, I'm pretty sure he's aware we're missing, but no, we didn't ask. I had to find my boss so that I could ask him. Hey, Boss? Can we come after you guys?"

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head, then turned to Tony. "Go send the orders. They're coming from you, not me, just so you know."

"Thanks," Tony said, then reached up for a quick and surprising peck on the lips before dashing into the room to send the orders out. Ziva followed him, giving Tony a look that meant they needed to leave Gibbs and McGee alone for a minute.

"Okay, what's going on here? I'm missing something," Tony said in a whisper as he glanced at Dave, who looked at least unconscious if not dead.

Ziva kept her voice to a whisper as she explained. "McGee has been going above and beyond for a while now to keep what is left of this team together, and after he went off on Gibbs earlier this week, and now by us being here, I believe Gibbs is seeing him differently. I think an apology might be in order, and I figured that would go down easier if they were left alone for it to happen."

"I knew things were pretty messed up, but I'm really glad McGee stepped up to the plate. I've been noticing that he's been a lot more confident lately. It's like every time we got together for lunch or whatever, he had changed a little more. It's been good for him."

He went back to his phone after the orders were sent, and started texting Fornell what they had found out.

_I just sent massive evacuation orders to various places throughout D.C. You need to know that the bombs may or may not be radioactive, but they are out there._

_Smithsonian, George Washington U, Providence Hospital, the Navy Yard, and the Metro Warehouse are all on red-alert. _

_I'm also sending the BOLO out on Frankie and Antoinelli Giovanni, and search orders for all planes at Dulles as well as every train going towards Maine. I am about to terminate Dave Lambrusco, if he's not already gone._

A minute later, as Tony was hitting send on the BOLO for airport security to look out and apprehend the Giovanni's, he received a text from Fornell.

_If you're able to bring Lambrusco in alive, do so. We may need him. BOLO and red-alert is hitting hard. Just got a call from both our Director and Vance. I'm explaining the situation on a conference call now. Forces are moving._

Tony looked up at Dave, then Ziva and shook his head. "Damn it. McGee!" he hollered. Tim came in with Gibbs on his heels. "Can you give me a hand here? Tobias wants him alive if at all possible."

"Alive? I get to live?" Dave barely said, his head lulling back and his eyes rolling up into his head. "He does love me."

Tony winced, not prepared for the dying man's delusions that the orders were coming from his uncle.

"What?" McGee asked as he started tying off the man's leg with his belt. "You're sent to torture the douchebag, and now we've gotta save his life? I thought you were going to have this finished by now," he said, playing along with the rouse.

"I'm not really that upset about it all. I'd love to see the old bastard's face when he finds out we're all still alive. Dave here suggested we all show up at the other end of his craps table, since the rest of the family is going to either Vegas or Maine for a big family reunion. Funny, we weren't invited."

"Neither was I, but I'm thinking about going," McGee said as he started ripping the bloody shirt off the man and holding part of it back up to the wound in his shoulder that was freshly bleeding again. "We can't let him lose any more blood if we want him to live through this."

"I just want him to live long enough," Tony whispered under his breathe.

Gibbs began packing up their kit and supplies. "Should we put him in the trunk?" he asked.

"Might as well. He's going to get blood all over the car otherwise, and if he gains back some of his strength he could be a threat. Let's get moving. Maybe we can get Ducky to meet us somewhere."

"No can do," Tim said as he started untying Dave's arms from the back of the chair.

"McGee sent Ducky and Abby somewhere safe an hour ago when we found out what we were dealing with," Ziva explained as she helped clear the way to the car as the men dragged their victim/perp.

"Smart thinking, McGee," Gibbs said as he walked past him with their stuff. He made it to the car and tossed everything into the backseat, then popped the trunk as Tim and Tony dragged Dave towards it. They tossed him in, and Tim made sure the tourniquet on his leg was tight enough. The cut on the man's jaw and lip looked hideous, cracked with blackened, dried blood, but he didn't touch it for fear of busting the lip open again.

"If he lives to the Hoover building, we'll be lucky," Tim said.

"We're not heading for the Hoover building," Tony said as he pulled his shirt off and replaced it with a bloodless tee from the back seat. "We're headed for Bayside. That's where they were keeping the bombs. We need to make sure they're not still there." He pulled off his bloody pants, unabashed to be changing in front of the group, revealing the boxers beneath, and earning inconspicuously appreciative glances from both Jethro and Ziva.

"That confirms that Thomas and Brandonburg were going to the entirely wrong area. They were being sent to a warehouse in Bethesda." Tim headed towards his car.

"What?" Tony asked, stopping in the middle of fastening the pants he was changing into. Tim turned, and came back to stand in front of him.

"Yeah. Ja'Rell emailed Abby and told her that he didn't feel like the intel they had gotten today was good, but that they were so desperate for a lead, that they were going to follow it anyway. Abby said he was so sure it was wrong that he had reached out for help, because he didn't trust his partner anymore. That's why we blew our cover- they had to be pulled."

"What?" Tony asked again, reaching a hand out to find Jethro's reaching back for his. "New plan, we're going to go find Ja'Rell and Pammy. I didn't realize they were already out there. Ja'Rell wouldn't break protocol like that unless he was in trouble. I need to get in touch with him." Tony reached out and punched Tim's arm. "Thanks, McGeek." He cursed at his phone as he typed in Ja'Rell's number. When it rang and went to voicemail, he knew something wasn't right. He pulled his laptop out and started trying to get into the tracking program.

"What do you need? Mine's already up," Tim said, grabbing his laptop from the front seat of the car where he'd left it.

"Track this phone!" Tony said, giving Tim the numbers. "I want to know exactly where it is, and I want its coordinates sent to this phone, in my hand, every two minutes."

"Got it. Give me your number," Tim said, typing so fast that his fingers looked like a blur as Ziva watched.

Gibbs took out his phone and called the Director from the sidelines, leaving he rest of the group to figure out where Tony's team was. The Naval Yard wasn't too far from Bayside. They could send a team to the warehouses out that way to make sure the bombs were still there, and hopefully get some of the MTAC techs to run a satellite search of the area from a recon van. If they could do it with infrared, they might be able to figure out what building they were in. There were government buildings in the same vicinity, and he had to wonder if the reason they were able to get away with having the shipments sent out that way was because it appeared it would be going to the classified divisions of the Naval Research Team that lined the shore of the Chesapeake nearby.

His conversation kept going as they all loaded into their cars, Tony behind the wheel, covered in blood and fumbling with the keys to get them in the ignition.

"Yes, Leon. I'm well aware of the situation at hand. Hell, I'm the one that wrote up the damn orders. Gather a team, and send them up there. If you can confirm that two bombs are still in the warehouse, the evacuation can cease."

Tony pulled out his phone, and tried to text Ja'Rell. It wasn't working with how crazy he was driving so he handed the phone off to Gibbs, who looked at it like Tony had handed him a vial of the plague.

"Hang up the damned phone and text Ja'Rell that we're coming!" Jethro blinked at Tony's demand, but then shrugged and hung up on Vance. He looked down at the touch keyboard, and gingerly found the letters to tell Tony's teammate that they were on the way.

He had just hit send when the update came to his phone to tell him where Ja'Rell was. "Your phone says that he's still in Bethesda."

"I guess that's good. Even going breakneck speeds we're still half an hour out. If they go any further into the city, it's only going to get worse. Not to mention, evacuating so many facilities is going to cause a mass panic, and people are probably going to leave town. That traffic isn't going to be fun to fight."

"Tony, we'll get there in time. Don't worry. Just drive." Jethro reached out and put his hand on Tony's thigh, rubbing his thumb over it as he watched Tony's phone, making sure the update showed that Ja'Rell's phone was still moving, but in an area they knew.

"He doesn't trust his partner? That's just…"

"Sad?" Jethro offered when Tony didn't continue.

"Uncanny. That's how I ended up at the FBI to begin with." Jethro's hand stilled on Tony's leg as he felt the sting. Tony felt Jethro stiffen, and he realized how that sounded. "No! Not you! Sacks! Sacks betrayed Fornell, and Fornell invited me on board because he needed someone he could trust after Sacks betrayed him. I knew what that was like after Danny. I think it's one of the reasons we've managed to work so well together. I have never, not for a moment, thought that Pammy didn't deserve to be trusted, but I think it was more because of Ja'rell, and how he was so confident in her, and how dedicated he was. Pammy was much quieter than him. I wonder how in the hell she got wrapped up in something deep enough to lose his trust."

"We don't know yet that she's dirty. Give it time to play out. We'll get there and sort it out." Jethro's hand resumed the motions against Tony's leg, but the dose of reality had been slung, even if it was a misinterpretation. He had betrayed Tony. They were supposed to be partners in life, and yet when push came to shove, he had chosen the job. They were just days away from moving in together. What would have happened then? What if they had been living together for two or three months, or longer, and suddenly Vance dropped that ultimatum on him? What would have happened then? Would he have had the balls to choose what he really wanted to choose, or would he have let Tony walk out of his life?

Tony had told him at the campsite to try and let it go, that they were both at fault for not stepping up and fixing it, but he's the one that broke it in the first place, and he felt the guilt and the fear of losing Tony swelling up inside of him. Tony's dad had never been there for him, Danny had betrayed him, he'd been through hell and back with so many things, and then he'd been too chicken to make the decision he knew that he had to make to keep him.

Now here they were, driving down the highway with a man tortured almost to death in the trunk, and he had no idea what they were walking into. The fear of permanently losing Tony gripped him, and his fingers tightened on Tony's thigh without his knowledge. He took a deep breath and watched the information on the phone come up again indicating Ja'Rell's whereabouts, and he announced them to Tony, who glanced at Jethro with a concerned expression.

Jethro raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"You're bruising my thigh. What are you thinking?" Tony asked, reaching out quickly to recapture Jethro's hand as it was suddenly pulled away. He replaced it on his thigh, and tried to glance at Jethro as he drove.

"I'm thinking that I almost lost you to a situation I could have completely controlled, and now that I've gotten a second chance, we're walking into this mess, and there's nothing I can do to control how dangerous it is."

"Jethro- breathe. We've got each other's backs- always. And McGee and Ziva are right behind us, and Ja'Rell at least will be there, too. I can't see us screwing this part of it up. I won't worry about us until we know more about the bombs. Right now I'm just worried about Ja'Rell."

Jethro breathed as directed and nodded. He felt so out of sorts. He was so used to being calm, cool, and collected until the right moment came to spout off and use his pressured fury to get results in interrogation or something similar. He wasn't feeling like himself. He tried to tell himself that it was because Tony was in charge of this one, but he knew that wasn't quite it. He tried to tell himself that he wouldn't be chasing the dangerous bad guys much longer, and that one day, a year from now, he'd be safe and enjoying life, but that wasn't it either. He knew if he didn't deal with what was going through his head now, he wasn't sure he be able to keep a clear head through the rest of the case, and it was too dangerous not to.

_Am I always going to worry that the things he's saying are slams, or that he's rehashing the past? Am I going to be on pins and needles for the rest of my life wondering if I'm screwing up too badly on top of how much I already have, and that he's going to have enough of a reason to leave me? To just walk away from it all? Did he really mean it the other night when he asked me to marry him, or was it just the passion of the moment carrying him away? _

"Why do you want to marry me, Tony?" he suddenly asked without thinking.

"Wait? What?" Tony asked, not sure he heard correctly. Jethro bit his lip and shook his head a little, then after a deep breath, he restated the question.

"Why do you want to marry me?"

Tony pulled over on the side of the road suddenly, kicking up dust and causing Tim and Ziva to blow past them and pull over a quarter of a mile up. He turned and looked at Jethro.

"We're racing against time to save my teammate, the capitol city of the United States, and our home, and you're suddenly going to announce your cold feet?" Tony asked.

"I don't have any doubts that I want to be with you forever, Tony. I just don't know why you want to be with me." Jethro's steady stare and sad blue eyes told Tony that Jethro's doubt was serious, and he softened.

"Jethro, when I think of all that is good and right in this world, I think of you. I think of how you care about people, your compassion and your _passion_ for humanity. I know that no matter what you think about where you're going to be a year from now, you will spend the rest of your life fighting for justice- real justice. You make me feel safe, and wanted, and invincible. You managed to reach in, little bit by little bit, and make me feel like I was worth something. You saw the good in me when I didn't believe there was any, and you've taught me to see it in not only myself, but everyone I meet. I believe that there is good in the world because of _you_. Your integrity is humbling, and the way you never stopped reaching out, never stopped trying to love… it's taught me that love is worth it. _You've_ taught me that love is worth it. You're an incredible man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and I'm damned lucky to have you by my side. I want to marry you so that I get a chance to stand up in front of everyone I care about and tell them that I'm damned lucky, and that I'm not giving you up without one hell of a fight. I let you slip away once, and I won't ever do it again." Tony's green eyes bored into Jethro's blue, and he saw the way Jethro swallowed hard.

"Now we're going to go make sure Ja'Rell is alright, then my team, and your team, are going into the city, and we're going to kick some serious ass and save the day, because I believe you and I are meant to take on the world together, and fuck it all if it blows up on our watch. Capisce?" Tony said with a smirk, making Jethro smile and chuckle silently.

"Capisco."

"Good. Now let's do this."

^NCIS^NCIS^NCIS^NCIS^

Ziva sniffled. Tim looked over at her with abhorrent shock, and she sniffled again. He saw her eyes were misty, and he rubbed his own, afraid he was hallucinating.

"Are you okay?" Tim asked quietly. He'd been touched by the speech Tony had just given Gibbs as well, but he wasn't close to tears.

Ziva pulled back out on the road as she followed Tony down the highway, letting the tears fall shamelessly down her cheeks. She knew she could cry around Tim, something she had never felt before this case, but now knew as well as her own reflection.

"I do not know. I have given up many relationships in my life for the sake of my career, because it has never been just a career to me. This has always been a way of life. Growing up in Mossad, we are taught relationships are dispensable when they keep us from our work. My father left after my mother found out he was having an affair with the woman who took his place as Director of Mossad. Their relationship was complicated, but he cast both aside for his work. He left us all for his work, and in the end, he only wanted me to know that he believed in what he was doing. I do not know if I am willing to live that life. I do not think that I am meant to follow in his footsteps. I would like to have a relationship that is as strong as the one Tony expressed to Gibbs, and yet, I do not feel I can do that if I am doing this."

Tim watched her cry as she drove. He felt like he should be saying something reassuring, but in as long as he'd known Ziva, she had never been able to hold down a serious relationship long because of how her life was constantly tangled in her work. He understood that to an extent. He'd cared for Delilah, but her constant push for him to move to a safer tech related position had shown him that she didn't understand his job and how much the team meant to him. He could see himself lost in the job for the rest of his life, and he realized that he didn't really mind all that much. He loved what he did, even when he didn't have the direction needed. He'd always assumed that Ziva would be a lifer as well, but it was obvious to him in that moment that she was not content to let the job consume her forever. She wanted out.

"You need to do what's going to make you happy, Ziva. Life is too short to live any other way."

She nodded and wiped at her eyes. "I have been closer to happy than I ever thought I could be since coming to NCIS, but watching them, seeing that kind of intensity between them, reminds me of what I felt when Ray and I started seeing each other, and I wonder if I could ever have that with someone again. I do not want to constantly worry if whoever I love is in danger because of my job or my past. I think it would be safer for them if I did something else."

"Would you be happy doing something else?" he asked.

"I have many talents, and they make me content. I do not know if any of them would make me complete like this work does. I have a lot to think about."

Tim nodded. "I can understand that. Let me know if you need someone to talk to, or if you want help finding something else."

Ziva heard the sadness in McGee's voice, and she knew that it pained him to have to offer such assistance, but it was genuine. She once again realized how lucky she was to have him in her life, and how blind she had been to how big of a hole he had been filling for so long now.

"Thank you, McGee," she said quietly, though she kept her bloodshot eyes on the road.


	21. Chapter 21

_This one gets bad with the gore. Hopefully two chapters in one night makes up for missing a week! :D_

Chapter 21

"He should be somewhere up here. The last coordinates said that they had stopped within a hundred yards of here," Jethro said as he looked down at the phone, and then back up around him at the buildings. They were in a small business district with various shops and restaurants, but the black sedan Tony had expected them to be driving was nowhere in sight.

The phone suddenly started ringing in Jethro's hand, and he handed it off to Tony who answered it eagerly. "Ja'Rell? Is that you?" he asked.

"Thank, God! I've never been so happy to hear your voice man. Something's wrong. Pammy wouldn't go to the warehouse. She kept saying she was ready to go home, and I think she's snapped man. She just kept driving around for the past hour and a half. I kept asking her to tell me what was going on and trying to get her to talk, but she finally just kicked me out of the car, and I'm standing on the side of the road somewhere in Bethesda." Ja'Rell's frantic tone set Tony's hair on end and he sat up straighter.

"We're really close to you somewhere. What are you in front of?" Tony asked.

"Uh, looks like a coffee shop called Telly's."

"Okay, this is what you do. I want you to go in and order five large coffees to go, and we'll meet you in there."

"Um, okay?" Ja'Rell asked as Tony hung up on him.

"Coffee?" Jethro asked. Tony nodded with a smile, and looked up and down the street for a place to park. He knew Telly's was up on the corner a block away, and the parking was a bitch in the area. He found a spot and pulled in, and Tim and Ziva pulled up a few more meters away and took another spot. Tim slid a few coins into his meter, and then came back and slid more into Tony's. The four of them started heading for the corner, and Tim suddenly remembered a very crucial fact.

"Um, should someone stay out here with Dave?"

"I will do it," Ziva said. "I will call you if I start to hear noises."

"Thanks, Ziva," Tony said with a strained smile, which she returned. The three men headed into the café, and Ziva went to lean against the car.

Ja'Rell flagged them to the counter where the sugar and creamer was kept, and the four of them talked quietly as they added their fixings, except for Gibbs who started drinking his down immediately.

"It sounds more like she's suffering from an emotional breakdown rather than going rouge or turning," Tony said quietly.

"Yeah, definitely! Pammy would never turn! Something has been really off the past month though. I thought it was just because she was homesick, ya know? I mean, I was feeling it myself this summer. Going through beach honey withdrawal will do that to a guy, but this was different. I had to start picking up the slack more and more for her, and she's my partner, ya know? I didn't wanna say anything. I thought it would just pass.

"When that intel came in today, I just felt all sorts of wrong about it. It didn't sit right from minute one. My stomach was flippin' like crazy, but she was so damn excited that we had a break in the case that she took the paper and literally _ran_ down the hall to tell Fornell. I tried to tell him that I didn't think it was good info, but she was so hell bent on making any kind of headway that she kept pushing it. Finally, Fornell just told us to go ahead and follow up on it, and if we could find a way to get in, take it.

"I kept trying to tell her that it didn't feel right, and why we shouldn't go, and finally, when Fornell started trying to call us back, I think it made too much sense. It was like she lost that little bit of hope that we were going to get out of here, and snapped. She started ranting, and driving around in loops... I swear, we must've driven by this place thirty times in the past hour. I know I should've stayed with her, but when she told me to get out, I had to. I don't know what she's going to do, but I'm afraid she's going to go to the warehouse alone."

"If you give me her new phone number, I can track it and we can go get her," Tim said.

"Thanks, McGee. That would make me feel a lot better." Ja'Rell suddenly looked at the group around him. "Wait. How in the hell did you all find me?"

"Abby told me you'd contacted her. I had just found intel that said there is no way the bombs are anywhere up here, and so we broke cover and interrupted Tony and Gibbs' interrogation of Dave Lambrusco, and then we tracked your phone."

"Wait, bombs? There's bombs out there?" Ja'Rell asked in a stage whisper, looking at them like they had three heads.

"Yeah. Two retrofitted pumpkin bombs that may or may not be radioactive," Tony confirmed in a whisper just as soft.

"Then what in the hell are we doing in here?" Ja'Rell asked quietly but fervently.

"There's already teams looking in all of the locations that they could be, and evacuations are in place. If you were to turn on the TV right now, I'd bet you'd see the ultimate frenzy breaking out in downtown D.C.," Tony said.

"What can we do?" Ja'Rell pushed, already heading towards the door.

"We need to find Pammy before she does something stupid, and then we need to get Dave Lambrusco somewhere secure so he can be treated until we get the information out of him we need."

"You left Agent David out there alone with him?" he asked as they left the building and saw the petite woman leaning against the trunk of their car.

"Eh, he's almost dead in the trunk. She's fine," Tony said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Man, you're starting to sound like one of the LCN!" Ja'Rell joked.

"That's what Lambrusco thinks we are," Gibbs confirmed.

"Oh, I get it."

"Let me go track Pammy, and we'll take it from there. Come with me, I'll need the number." Tim led Ja'Rell to his car, and Tony and Gibbs approached Ziva. They both noticed her eyes were puffy and red, and Tony handed her a cup of coffee.

"Case getting to you?" Tony asked quietly.

"In ways I did not expect," Ziva confirmed, taking a sip of the coffee Tony had practically bleached with cream for her. "I will be fine though. Just needed a few minutes to process it all. Our friend did not make a sound. I am beginning to wonder if he's even alive."

"If you two could help block the view, I should probably check on that so that we know what we can tell Fornell we have access to if the bombs are not located."

Gibbs and Ziva formed a human shield while Tony popped the trunk and found Dave slipping in and out of consciousness. "Do you think we should give him something?" Tony asked Gibbs with a wince.

"I don't know the effects any of the drugs we have would have on him. We know the ephedrine would speed the heart up, but if he is still leaking from anywhere, that would pump it out of him quicker. We should probably just let him rest for now."

Tony nodded in agreement, and closed the trunk lid on the barely-there man. Tony's phone suddenly made a noise, and he realized that Tim was forwarding Pammy's coordinates to his phone. She wasn't very far, but she was stopped.

"Are we ready to go?" Tony asked. Jethro nodded, and headed back to her car. Tony turned to Ziva, and reached out to touch her arm lightly. Her eyes met his, and he gave her a questioning look.

"I am not sure I can keep doing this," she finally said quietly enough that Gibbs couldn't hear. "I think it may be time I took care of myself for once, and found something a little less… troubling to do with my life." She gave Tony a small smile, and then walked away, leaving him standing there to watch her go. He took a deep breath, and shook his head.

"Ja'Rell. With me," Tony commanded. Ja'Rell squeezed himself into the back seat, pushing all of their belongings into a pile.

"Jump ropes?" he asked.

"It would have been a little obvious to buy rope and cinderblocks from a hardware store. Instead, I got jump ropes from a drug store, and the cinderblocks… well you know where they came from."

"Oh, yeah. Your cinderblock guy," Ja'Rell said with a nod as he turned to look out the window anxiously.

"He's come in handy much more than I ever thought he would."

"You're telling me," Ja'Rell said seriously. Jethro cast a look between the two of them, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

"One day, I expect that story."

"We've got the rest of our lives, Jethro," Tony said with a smile, then realized that he had never divulged the nature of his relationship with Ja'Rell. As they pulled out of their spot and headed towards the coordinates on Tony's phone, he cleared his throat. "I should probably tell you that Agent Gibbs and I are recently engaged," Tony announced.

"Really?" Ja'Rell asked, not too surprised to find out his suspicions were correct. "Congratulations! That's great, man!"

"Thanks," Tony said with a smile into the rearview mirror, glad to see that Ja'Rell's sentiment was sincere, if not surprised.

His phone chimed again and confirmed that they were almost to where Pammy's phone said she should be. They started looking for the black FBI-issued sedan, and sighs of relief could be heard all around as the car came into view up ahead. There were some houses and a few businesses scattered around the area, but it wasn't very busy. Tony pulled up right behind her car, and all three men got out. He approached the driver's side door with caution, and saw Pammy's head against the steering wheel. He swallowed hard, afraid of what he'd find waiting there. He was relieved when he saw her shaking and bloodless, and he very carefully opened the door. Ja'Rell was right next to him, and Gibbs was on the other side, opening the passenger door.

Tony knelt down next to her, and ran a hand down her arm gently and reassuringly. "Pammy?" he asked quietly. She sat up and looked down at Tony through tear streaked eyes, and Tony gave her a sad smile.

"Tony? Oh, hi," she said, wiping her eyes.

"Pammy, talk to me. What's going on?" he asked. She looked up and saw Ja'Rell, and started crying in earnest again.

"I'm so sorry Ja'Rell," she said between heaving sobs. "I don't know what's happening to me." Ja'Rell motioned for Tony to switch him places, and he crouched down next to Pammy and took her hands.

"Try and tell me," he said quietly. "I'm not mad at ya, Pammy, but you got me worried sick. Tell me what's going on in that big head of yours."

"I don't know," she said. "I really don't. One minute, everything will be fine, and the next, it feels like the world is crashing in around me, and I know that it's not. I know that everything is just as stable as it was the day before, but it just hits me, and it's like I can't breathe, and then I feel like I'm not even myself. I feel like someone else is in my head, telling me it's going to be okay, and to pull myself together. When I start feel like that, I can't… I can't function anymore, and then it's like he has to take over. He has to call the shots, and it scares me. He's just in there, telling me it's going to be okay and to let him take over, but he's not real Ja'Rell, I know he's not real!" She started sobbing, leaning forward on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him.

"We'll get you some help, Pammy. Don't worry. We'll get you some help and we'll make sure he goes away." Ja'Rell's eyes closed tightly as he held her, refusing to make eye contact with Gibbs or Tony. Gibbs reached forward and gently took the keys out of the ignition, and Tony's eyes met his as he realized what he had to do next.

"Pammy, I need for you to give me your gun and any other weapons that you may have on you," he demanded gently.

Pammy sat up and looked at Tony in shock, then down at Ja'Rell as she shook her head.

"Pammy," Gibbs said, startling them all. "You know he's not safe with the weapons. He can't be trusted with them. You need to turn them over before he can get them."

That seemed to make sense to her, and she nodded, taking a deep breath of resolve. She pulled the gun out of the holster on her side and handed it to Ja'Rell, who passed it back to Tony. She then reached down to her thigh and pulled another smaller piece out of a holster there, and a knife off the other side of the same leg. She handed both of those to Ja'Rell who, again, passed them back to Tony.

"Come on," Ja'Rell said quietly. "Switch seats. We'll go over to Bethesda, and we'll find someone who can help you."

"I don't want him to go away," Pammy said quietly as her eyes met Ja'Rell's again. "He makes me feel better. He tells me I'm okay, that I'm worthy of happiness, and that I'm capable of so much more. He tells me that I'm loveable, Ja'Rell. That he loves me, and so one day, someone else could." She bit her bottom lip tightly as Ja'Rell took her hands again.

"Oh, Pammy, you _are_ lovable. You know I love ya, girl. Have since the day I met you. You don't need him to tell you that." Tony and Gibbs looked at each other in surprise, and knew they were suddenly interrupting a very private conversation. Gibbs got out of the car, and he and Tony met up at the trunk of their car.

"I wasn't expecting that," Tony confided. Tim and Ziva joined them, noticing the confused looks on both men's faces.

"Is she okay?" Tim asked.

Tony shook his head slowly. "She's going to have to be committed for a while," Tony said, emptying the clips from her weapons, and tucking them in his own belt for the time being. His eyes met Jethro's and they locked, saying much more with that expression than they ever could with words.

Tony wondered how he could have missed the emotions between his two agents, and he realized it was because he didn't want to see. It would have reminded him too much of him and Jethro, and he wasn't capable of handling that.

Ja'Rell joined the group, and Gibbs handed him the car keys. "I'm out of this one, Tony," he said, letting his eyes meet his interim teammate's. Tony saw the resolution in them, and he knew that Ja'Rell's concentration was reserved for Pammy. He nodded in agreement, and Ja'Rell gave Tony a quick smack on his arm, and a sad smile full of gratitude.

Tony watched them leave, then pulled out his phone and dialed Fornell.

"I take it your cover is over?" Fornell answered.

"Yeah. Ja'Rell is taking Pammy to Bethesda," he said quietly, getting into the front seat of the car to have a little privacy while Gibbs talked with his agents.

"What? Why? Is she okay?" Fornell asked with a voice full of concern.

"No, Tobias, she's not. She's had some kind of psychotic break, and she's delusional. She believes there's another person living in her head, and it sounds like she's both afraid and enamored with him. Ja'Rell is taking it pretty hard. He just confessed that he loves her."

"Whoa. I didn't expect that," Fornell said.

"That's what I said."

"We have bad news here, Tony. Really bad news. The bombs aren't at any of the locations that we've evacuated so far, but they aren't in any of the warehouses either. We found out that the arsenal got a request for two of the Pumpkin Bombs to be shipped for experimentation to one of the Naval Research Units out on Government Route Fifteen, but they were never received. The Research Team said that they never requested the shipment. The GPS on the trucks say that they were delivered to a warehouse a mile down the road that used to be owned by a paint company called Ultinell. Ultinell has been out of there for two years, but the deed on the building is in Antoinelli Giovanni's name."

"We have two missing bombs somewhere in D.C. that may or may not be nuclear."

"Yeah, that appears to be the situation. I do have some good news though. Frankie Giovanni was picked up by airport security, and is being transported here. He should be here in half an hour."

"How are we going to go about this?" he asked.

"I doubt we're going to get anything out of him the traditional way," Fornell said quietly.

"You want _us_ to take a whack at him." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I'm thinking you're going to need more than one."

Tony shook his head. "I still have Dave Lambrusco alive in my trunk as we speak! How in the hell am I supposed to… no. You know what? Forget it. Who's transporting him?"

"One of our teams."

"Fine. Have them meet us at the cabin on Jeffery Road, and tell them they are expected to leave immediately after transfer. And remind them that I won't have my badge." Tony hung up on Fornell. He wasn't sure he would even get to Jeffery before the bombs went off, none the less get the answers they needed. He opened the car door, and hollered for them to get moving. Gibbs jumped in the driver's seat, and Tim and Ziva ran back to their cars.

"Where are we headed?" Jethro asked.

"Do you know where Riverview and Riverbend parks are?" Tony asked.

Jethro nodded suspiciously.

"That's where we're headed."

Jethro shook his head as he slipped his key into the ignition. "Who is it this time?" he asked, recognizing the darkness in Tony's eyes already.

"Frankie Giovanni. The bombs weren't in the warehouses, but they aren't in the sites Dave told us so far either, though they're still looking. We need answers, and we need them now."

"And we're being asked to do the job," Jethro said as he sped off towards the park.

"I think we volunteered for the job when we went dark to begin with," Tony said as he rested his head against the window in defeat.

"We'll figure it out, Tony. Just gotta push through, and let me help. You were on a roll with Dave, but I felt like I didn't get to take any of the burden from you. I need for you to let me help," Jethro said quietly.

Tony looked at him with the slightest of smiles. "I'll try," he said. Honestly though, he was at the point where he preferred to leave his sanity and his humanity with Jethro so he could protect them while he got his own hands dirty. However, he knew Jethro needed to interact in order to feel like he was helping, so he would try.

^NCIS^NCIS^NCIS^

"I don't think any of us are going to come out of this case without some kind of life altering experience," McGee began. "Tony and Gibbs are not only back together, but engaged. Pammy is suffering from a nervous breakdown, you're thinking about leaving the agency, Ja'Rell confessed his love for Pammy, and I… I don't know who in the hell I've been the past couple of days."

Ziva nodded as Tim drove, following Gibbs at a speed he never would have driven normally by himself. They were numb and on edge, unsure of where they were heading or why since the laptop was off, and Tim didn't even care to find out. He knew that when he got there, he would regret it, but he also knew that if they were going, it was necessary.

"Will you do me a favor? Open up the laptop and see if there's a blinking blue window. I was hoping to get an update from Abby on what she and Ducky had decided to do."

Ziva opened the laptop, but there was no blinking window.

"Oh, well," he said. He felt frazzled, and he wondered how much longer it would be before he had his own nervous breakdown. For now, he just followed Tony and Gibbs, and drank his coffee.

^NCIS^NCIS^NCIS^

Fornell was standing in the com room, running back and forth between the teams looking through the facilities that the bombs were supposed to have been placed. Teams were now flooding the major government buildings, including the one he was in, looking for a bomb the size of a Volkswagon Beetle. They were waiting for the security team from the Naval Research Unit down the road from the Ultinell warehouse to get back with them about security footage. They were checking through it to see if they could pinpoint when the most recent vehicles were coming and going from the facility, but it was going to take a while to get through, and Fornell was afraid they might not have enough time.

He knew that Tony wasn't happy about being asked to keep Lambrusco alive, and then being told that he was going to have to torture Frankie Giovanni for the information they needed. He'd never ordered Tony to torture another human being, especially knowing what he went through after the Wallingford case, but this time, it was necessary, especially knowing what Tony was capable of. He'd requested a copy of the report on the case from Vance once Tony and Gibbs went under, curious as to what they had done so he could know what to expect. Vance had turned it over surprisingly quickly, and he wasn't able to eat lunch after reading it and seeing the photos Ducky had taken.

It was beyond gruesome. The man had practically been dismembered and filleted, and he though he knew he deserved ever slice, he wondered how in the hell Tony and Gibbs had done it. When he read through Tony's vivid account of the story, he was surprised to find that Tony had done most of the cutting and stabbing. The man's eyes were missing, gauged out, and he shuddered at the memory of his soulless face.

He considered the man that had passed out on his couch so many nights, and how he had drowned himself in liquid brainwash. He now understood why more than ever. It wasn't just the break up with Jethro that had pushed him so far to the edge, but the events he had lived through shortly before that. He'd lost an agent, a friend, and he had taken out his killer in the most vicious way Fornell had ever seen a person mutilated.

He was glad to have his attention stolen by his next video conference as he tucked away a vision of Frankie Giovanni with no eyes, no arms, and large chunks of his skin missing.

^NCIS^NCIS^NCIS^

A car crunching over the gravel let Tony know that the transfer team had arrived with Frankie Giovanni. Tim and Ziva were waiting in a side room with Dave Lambrusco, who was once again tied to a chair and starting to look a little more like himself except for a leg that was going gangrene from the tourniquet. He had been gagged for not only their safety, but their sanity.

Tim was mixing a batch of truth serum, and he was tweaking the measurements to make sure Frankie would still feel everything that Tony and Gibbs did to him. He sat the needle down along the vials, and went out into the main room of the cabin to watch the arrival. Once Frankie was tied up, Tony approached Tim.

"Take my phone, and find a place with a signal. I need for you to call Fornell, and stay in contact with him so that as soon as one of us has information, you can relay it to him. I'll send Gibbs to you with info if we get it, and if you get anything from Tobias, I need for you to come let us know right away."

Tim nodded and took the phone outside, holding it up as he looked for a signal. He wandered down the gravel road that led to the small cabin that they were hauled up in, and wondered how Tony found these places. This one actually had a room in the back that was meant for butchering and skinning deer and other hunted animals, so the floors and wooden furniture were already stained with blood. He couldn't quite suppress the chill that snuck up on him, but as soon as he got a bar of signal, he stood still and made the call. He turned around as he explained to Fornell the situation, and watched the cabin for any signs that they were being snuck up on. He realized that he was actually in the position that he could easily slip back into some trees on the edge of the road and hide if he saw someone approach, but for some reason, he still felt like a sitting duck.

Gibbs had tied Frankie Giovanni down to the chair next to the table. The legs of the chair had been tied to the legs of the table, and the man's arms were tied in such a way that they were spread out along the edge of the table top spread eagle. All the while, Tony had stood next to their mobster with a gun to his head, safety off.

"You're intimidation tactics don't scare me gentlemen," Frankie announced. "I know my rights, and I know you're not allowed to do anything to me."

Gibbs came to stand in front of the man, and smirked. "You have no rights. Under the U.S. Patriot Act, and by order of the President of the United States, we are authorized to do whatever necessary to you to obtain the information necessary to protect national security. If you survive our ordeal here today, you'll be transferred to a maximum security prison where you'll spend the rest of your life under lock and key with no jury trial of your peers."

Frankie's smirk faded, and the look that replaced it was one of a man who knew he was royally screwed.

"You may as well go ahead and kill me then. I'd rather be dead than live a life in confinement."

Tony cackled, and tucked the gun in the waistband of his pants. "Oh, trust me, you'll wish you were dead long before you ever make it to confinement. I'll make sure of that if you don't give us the information we need."

"There's really just one simple question we need the answer to," Gibbs started, going over to the box of implements that he and Tony had been using. He pulled out the icepick and tossed it to Tony, who caught it easily, and immediately rammed it down into Frankie's hand that was partially resting on the tabletop.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

Tony merely stared at him as he screamed. The icepick had been slammed down so hard that it went through the hand and was jammed into the table.

"Let me preface that question with this: If you lie to us, and I _will_ know, I will make sure _that"_ he said, gesturing to the icepick sticking out of the whimpering man's hand, "Goes through at least ten other points in your body that will keep you from being able to fight back once you get to prison."

Frankie's eyes went wide, but he didn't say anything or move.

"I think we understand each other," Tony said with a wicked smile. Jethro came to stand next to Tony, and placed his hand on his shoulder. Tony backed up, cocking his head as he stared down at Frankie, and completely missed the concerned look Jethro was shooting him.

"There are two bombs loose somewhere in the city because of you. Where are they?" Tony asked, his voice dripping with venom that made Jethro's stomach curl. He moved to stand next to the table, close enough to be the one to place the next blow on Frankie so that Tony couldn't.

"You can hack me to itty bitty pieces, but I'll never tell you. I'm willing to let them blow me and you both to smithereens if it will give my uncle the power he deserves."

"Oh?" Tony said, standing with his arms crossed. He looked at Jethro who reached down and broke Frankie's first finger. The man screamed in agony, but didn't say anything as he looked over through red, wet eyes at the way the bones were protruding from his skin.

"Do you want him to keep going?" Tony asked with a creepy pretend concern.

Frankie shook his head, but Tony nodded to Jethro anyway. Jethro broke another finger, trying not to think about the blood that squirted all over his hand as he did so as the bone broke through the skin. He tried not to absorb the sob that broke from Frankie's throat, and he concentrated more on the man in front of him than the terrifying man that stood nearby, giving him directions.

"I'd tell him, Frankie. I'm not really sure what he's capable of anymore," he said quietly and honestly. He couldn't look at Tony, unable to watch the younger man smile viciously like he had a feeling he was. He'd seen this before, and though last time he had enough pent up anger and guilt in himself to let out that he hadn't stopped things from getting out of control, he was wondering if this time he'd be able to if he even tried. Tony was terrifying him.

Tony figured Jethro was simply acting to encourage Frankie's confession. He watched the shock of the initial pain pass, and decided to ask the question again. "The bombs, Frankie. Where are the bombs?"

Frankie closed his eyes tightly and grit his teeth as he shook his head 'no' at Tony. Jethro took Frankie's arm in both of his hands, and twisted, breaking both bones in his forearm. Frankie screamed and cried, sobbing in his pain, and he started shaking his head back and forth as he wailed.

Tony went to the box, and pulled out the smaller icepick and the curved tip fish gutter. He felt an odd sort of dangerous glee starting to filter out of him. His sarcasm was thick as he approached the restrained and wrecked man. "You know, I feel really bad for having to do this, but you really leave me no choice. You see, I'm supposed to be getting married next week, and you're standing in the way between me and my chances at happily-ever-after."

Frankie tried to jerk away as Tony cut his shirts off of his body, leaving small cuts along the way as he did so. Jethro reached out instinctively and grabbed the man's hair, pulling him back against the table so that he didn't thrash so much. He knew that thrashing would only provoke Tony at this point, and he knew the man was going to do plenty to provoke him without that.

"So, are you going to tell me yet?" Tony asked as he looked down at the head still bent back against the table, wild and desperate eyes looking up at him. "No?" Tony reached down and started running the tip of the knife blade across Frankie's shoulder, letting it leave papercut thin lines of blood in its wake.

There was a sudden rush of movement in the living room, and McGee came to the doorway, wincing for a moment when he saw the man, but turning his attention on Tony.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. Tony approached him so they could talk quietly. "I was told to tell you that they have video footage of two large flatbed trucks leaving the warehouse with large wooden crates on them. They split off in two different directions right before they were out of view of the camera."

Meanwhile, Gibbs was leaning down to whisper in Frankie's ear. "I'm serious Giovanni. Cooperate. I don't think I'm going to be able to stop him."

Tony nodded at Tim. "Thanks. Keep on it."

Tim nodded and headed back outside. He was near the door when he realized if he stood just to the left of the building, he could get a signal. It didn't take long for him to hear another scream from inside and he wished he had gone back up the road.

Tony was back at it, running the knife blade around the base of Frankie's ear. "I _hear_," Tony punned, "that two trucks left the Ultinell warehouse at about noon today. It's almost five now. I take it those bombs are in place by now, and you know where they are." He pushed down hard and within seconds, Frankie's ear was hanging half-off his head. The man screamed and moaned, racking with sobs.

"Ports, oh, god, they're in the docks!" he screamed.

"Now, see? Was that so hard?" Tony asked. "Keep going though. Which docks?"

Between sobs, Frankie informed him of a ship at the West River Fuel Dock, and another at the National Harbor that the crates would be loaded on that day; a back-up plan that only a few choice people were aware of.

"And how do you diffuse them? How were you planning on detonating them?" Tony asked, the knife already poised and ready to slam into his shoulder if he didn't answer the question immediately.

"Stephanie has them rigged so that we both can call and detonate them as soon as we know the right people are clear." The exhausted defeat was obvious behind the groaning sobs that broke free as he tried to speak, and Jethro was glad they'd be putting him out of his misery soon, no matter how vile of a creature he was.

"And how do you diffuse them?" Tony repeated, almost eager to have an excuse to plunge the knife down.

"They have to be dismantled. There's no way to completely diffuse them with how they are rigged. They simply have to be dismantled." Frankie sighed in relief as he realized he had no further information to give up, and he passed out.

There were noises in the doorway, and Tony turned, expecting to see McGee. He wasn't prepared to find a barely conscious Ziva in the grasp of Dave Lambrusco, her own gun held to her head, and both of them barely on their feet.

"Tony, the needle. He got to the needle. Tim…" she said before passing out in the clutches of her captor.

"Ziva!" Both Tony and Jethro shouted, jumping instinctively to catch her, but Dave turned the gun on them, and they both froze. Jethro saw that Tony's eyes were on fire, and he looked ready to pounce.

"DiNozzo! Don't do anything stupid," Jethro commanded from behind him, his boss voice firmly in place, causing Tony to stop a moment by reflex.

"What do you want?" Tony asked, and Dave smiled sinisterly at him.

^NCIS^NCIS^NCIS^

Tim was grateful that the screaming had stopped. He'd seen what Tony and Gibbs were capable of when you put them together in a situation like this, and he really didn't want to have to help clean up their mess again. Fornell had told him he'd call back in a few minutes, that he was being pulled into a video conference with their directors and the President.

Tim went to go back into the building, and he saw the door was open to the bedroom where they had left Ziva. He saw the empty chair, and he immediately drew his weapon. Something felt wrong in the air, and he slowly proceeded towards the back room, where a black hole of silence seemed to be coming from. He crouched down as he got to the kitchen door, able to see everyone was gathered in the back room. He couldn't tell, but he thought that Ziva might have been unconscious. She looked rather limp, and his stomach turned at the thought that she might be seriously injured or dead.

He crawled around the island cabinets until he had a good view of Dave holding a gun in his marled hand. Tim had done a quick bandage job of it in an attempt to keep the man from bleeding out before they were able to use him for answers, but he didn't think would ever regain enough strength to be able to do what he was doing at the moment. He watched the scene unfolding before him, and raised his gun. He watched, and listened closely for his chance.

"What do I want?" he heard Dave say to Tony. "Oh, I just want you dead! You sick, lying bastard!"

Tim didn't hesitate. He made sure his aim was perfect, and he pulled the trigger, felt the gun cock back, and pulled it again. Both shots went right into the man's head, one of which exited the other side and sprayed the entire group in the small room with brain matter and blood. He was on his feet immediately, and all three agents rushed to pull Ziva from the man's hold.

"Nice shooting, McGee," Tony said as he rolled Ziva over and felt for her pulse eagerly. "What the hell was in that needle?"

Tim shook his head. "It was the same trio as the truth serum, only with a little extra ephedrine to increase paranoia, and a little less scopolamine to allow the pain to seep through."

"Something's not right, McGee!" Gibbs said as he bent to listen to Ziva's breath.

McGee jumped to his feet and ran into the other room. He came back with the three bottles. "He added the rest of the scopolamine!" he announced.

"Her pulse is really thready. We need to get her to the hospital," Tony said.

"I don't know if we have time for that. We need to bring her heart rate up or she isn't going to make it," Tim said, his fingers on his wrist as he looked at his watch, counting the beats he felt.

"What about the ephedrine?" Jethro asked.

"It was all in the needle, and any more might kill her."

"Jethro!" Tony suddenly shouted even though they were only inches from each other. "The coke! Get the coke!"

"Coke?" Tim asked, as Gibbs jumped up for the torture kit. "Coke? As in cocaine? Why would you have cocaine?"

"Just for this reason, McGeek. How much should we give her?" he asked, looking up as he took the baggie from Jethro.

"Uh, start with seeing if she's breathing hard enough to inhale it from her nose. Just a pinch at a time so it's easier to inhale," he said, his hands surprisingly steady as he took the bag from Tony and pinched the fine powder, sprinkling it right on her nostrils. He saw she was breathing only the smallest amounts in, and he knew it wasn't going to be enough. He put his hand out. "Knife! Someone give me a knife! Preferably one without someone else's blood already on it!"

Gibbs pulled his personal knife out of his pocket and handed it to McGee, who immediately grabbed her arm, cut into it, and began sprinkling the powder into it. "We gotta get it into her bloodstream as quickly as possible," he explained quietly. "Come on, Ziva. Stick with me." He closed his hand around the wound, trapping the blood there. His eyes were trained on the closed ones below him, willing them to open.

He thought of the day Ziva had called in for backup, having been sent to interview their witness alone. He remembered the fear that had gripped him, and he remembered how grateful she was to see him. He thought of the way she had looked at him in the bank as he explained how far Sarah Davis' ID would go, and he realized now that the look had been of vulnerability. Her voice ran through his head as she asked him if he'd ever been in love, and how she had wondered if it was worth trying.

He was about to pour even more coke into the wound when her eyes started fluttering and she gasped. His eyes closed for only a brief second, and then snapped open to make sure he could see hers, and his breath was as sharp as hers as he breathed in relief.

"I need to get her to the hospital. I don't know how much coke that was, and with everything else, she could crash any minute," Tim announced, getting to his feet and scooping her up. She was barely able to react, throwing one arm around Tim's neck, her eyes wild and glazed, and her breath coming in weird gasps.

"Go! We got the location of the bombs. I'll call Fornell and let him know what needs to be done," Tony said, taking the phone from McGee's pants pocket. Gibbs followed Tim to the car, opening the doors for him as he went, and helping secure Ziva. McGee ran to the other side of the car and got in, and was pulling away as Gibbs closed the door on Ziva.

Gibbs watched his team drive way in the dust of gravel and dirt, and he swallowed hard. He wanted to be with them, but he knew he was needed back inside.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Tony stepped outside and found the same place around the side of the building that Tim had found a signal at. He called Fornell and let him know that they had the location of the bombs. A chorus of applause and cheers rang up on the other end of the phone, and he realized that not only was he hearing the people in the room, but multiple others on video conference. He smiled to himself, and a feeling of a job well done settled in his bones. He smiled a genuine and warm smile, and he felt a bit more human immediately.

Jethro walked over and witnessed it, and smiled as well.

"They will need to be dismantled. They can't be diffused. They're set to detonate via cell phone. I have possession of one of the phones, because it was on Frankie Giovanni. The other is with Stephanie Giovanni."

Fornell's voice rang out happily on the other end of the line. "Then we are in the clear, because we apprehended Stephanie Giovanni half an hour ago, and her belongings are with metro police who stopped her from getting on a train to Maine."

"That's great news, and we really need it. McGee just rushed Ziva off to the hospital. Dave Lambrusco recovered better than we thought he would, and he managed to inject her with some drugs we had handy. She's unstable, and she's going to need immediate medical attention. He's probably going to head down highway 193 and shoot up 495."

"I'll see what I can do to have air-care intercept them," Fornell said, hanging up immediately. Tony put the phone in his pocket and sighed with relief, sinking against Jethro.

"Fornell is going to have air-care drop in on McGee and Ziva to take her to the hospital," he said. Jethro held Tony close. Neither said anything, unable to confront the reality that she might not make it.

"We need to go take care of Frankie," Jethro finally said, his voice dripping with both regret and disdain.

"Yeah," Tony said, pulling out of the embrace. "Let's finish this." He headed inside with Jethro on his heels.

"There you are," Frankie said, his eyes wild with endorphins after his black out. "I was wondering if you'd left me here to die." When neither man said anything, he continued. "So you're Tony, huh? Randall says "hi"."

Tony's back stiffened, and his eyes went cold immediately in that predatory way that made Jethro's skin crawl. Frankie saw the reaction and chuckled manically. "Oh, and he told me that when I caught up with you, I was told to tell you "a little dragon took him out". Isn't that nice of him? A little dragon. I knew I always packed a punch, but dragon? Even a little one? That was pretty nice of him."

Tony lunged at him. Jethro grabbed for Tony, but it was too late. He was on the man, punching him hard, over and over until he felt the cheekbone and skull cracking under his knuckles. Jethro tried to pull him off, but Tony pushed at him, then grabbed for the icepick still in the man's hand. Jethro suddenly grabbed Tony's wrist and twisted it, pinning it behind his back, leaning in to his ear. "With me, _now!" _he demanded. He pulled Tony off of Frankie's lap until he stumbled, and Tony followed simply to stay on his feet. Jethro locked them in the bedroom of the cabin, and stood in front of the door.

"What the hell, Jethro?!" Tony yelled.

"He's not worth it, Tony," Jethro said softly, his eyes trying to convey his concern.

"What? Randall's not worth it? Randall's life isn't worth taking a little bit of revenge out on the bastard that fucking killed him?!" Tony yelled even louder at the top of his lungs.

"Randall wouldn't want you to lose yourself to the monster threatening to consume you right now!" Jethro yelled back, then dropped his voice. "And neither do I." He stared at Tony, begging and pleading with his eyes to let it go for now. They had already been through so much over the past few days, and Jethro wasn't sure Tony would be able to stand up to any more. He decided to try to refocus his attention. "If he killed Randall, we need to find out why, and we need to find out if Samantha is alive."

Tony was furious. His blood was boiling. He couldn't believe Jethro was stopping him from taking out all of his rage on the bastard that had killed his friend. He had done so much over the past few days for national security, but what about his own needs? He needed to let the anger out, and he was in the perfect situation to do so with Randall's killer strapped down and expected to be dead. Of all people, he thought Gibbs would understand the need to balance the scales. He shook his head and scoffed. "Thought you had my back," Tony said, trying to push past him to get to the door.

"Trust me, I do, Tony, but this isn't you. This is a lot of things, but it's not you. This is anger, and blood lust, and revenge. It's violence and rage and terror. It's not Tony DiNozzo. We have a bigger picture to worry about first, and that's getting the information we need to know that Samantha is safe. And he said that thing about the little dragon, and isn't that what Lexi called her son? We need to know they're all safe. He'd want us to. He was willing to die to keep some kind of information hidden, and we need to find out what that information was."

Tony hated that he was right, and a part of him hated Jethro for being right. Jethro stepped back and let Tony out of the room, and he followed him closely. Tony stalked right up to the restrained man, and he looked down at him. "What did you need out of Randall so badly that you killed him?" Tony asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No, I'd like to fucking kill you. He wants to know," Tony said, tossing his head in Jethro's direction as he stood with his arms crossed in front of Randall. Frankie cracked a smile over Tony's shoulder at Jethro. Tony looked like he was about to start wailing on their captive again, but Jethro beat Tony to it, and reached forward, snapping a finger back on the hand that had very recently had a bloody icepick driven through it. As soon as the screams died down from that finger, Jethro snapped another. And before he had a chance to answer them, Jethro snapped his thumb back until it hung precariously.

"Parleurs! We were looking for Parleurs!" Frankie screamed out, making Jethro stop and look down at him. Tony still wasn't making eye contact with Jethro. He instead was watching the pain reflected on the man's face, fuming because it wasn't enough, yet relishing in it as well.

"Why would you think Randall would know anything about Parleurs?" Tony asked, his voice deathly cold in a way that made both men in the room with him uneasy.

Frankie continued between pants and sobs. "We didn't. We went looking for Parleurs' kid sister, and Randall found _us_. Told us to leave her alone, that she had been put up somewhere. I don't know where, we never got it out of him. He couldn't stand up to the pain. Heart attack took him before we could."

Tony jumped as a gunshot suddenly rang out. Jethro had put a bullet through the man's head.

"Call Abby," Jethro directed. "See if Lexi has made contact with her yet, and if so, have her ask Lexi if she has Samantha with her."

Tony stared at the dead man before him, still not looking at Jethro. Jethro felt the slight like a blow to the stomach, and watched Tony staring at the body. When Tony wouldn't meet his eyes, even as Jethro laid his hand on Tony's arm, he felt the floor fall out from under him. Tony had told him that all he had to do was look him in the eyes, and he felt his humanity start flooding back into him, but Tony wouldn't meet his eyes, and Jethro wondered if Tony would ever be whole again.

Tony turned the opposite way out of Jethro's touch and headed for the door, the phone to his ear, already trying to connect a call to Abby without signal. Jethro stared at Frankie's body, and he shook his head. "You have no idea what you did. I hope you burn in hell," Jethro said under his breath. He reached out like he was going to close the eyes that stared eerily back at him, but shook his head and dropped his hand, deciding he wasn't even worth that amount of respect.

He gathered all of the evidence other than the body. Anything that may have had their fingerprints on it was wiped down with his handkerchief. The room with the body in it itself was too much to tackle, and he figured the FBI clean-up crew would take care of it. He headed out to the car and found Tony sitting in the passenger seat, his head against the window. He put all of their belongings in the backseat and pulled out his phone to call McGee. He moved to where he saw McGee and Tony go to use the phone earlier, and found he had reception as well. He waited for an answer, and watched Tony from afar. He still hadn't looked at him, and Jethro wondered if he ever would again.

"Hey, Boss," McGee answered, his voice dull and tired.

"Hey, McGee. How's Ziva?" he asked.

"She's being stabilized. We were suddenly surrounded on the highway by an escort, and then air-care descended right in front of us. It probably saved her life. I'll be allowed back to see her when she's able to handle it," he said. "Doctors think we managed to bring her around gently enough that she'll live, but there may be some damage to her heart. She's got a lot of tests ahead of her."

Jethro's eyes closed, and he ran his hand down his face. "Thank God for small favors. You've done good work during this case, Tim. You should be proud."

Tim smiled softly, and shook his head. "I just did what I had to do."

"You did it well. Keep me updated on how Ziva is doing."

"Will do, Boss."

"Are you okay, McGee?" he asked, realizing Tim still sounded rough.

"I will be. Don't worry about me."

Jethro shook his head. "I'll always worry, Tim. Never stopped, always will."

"I know, Boss," Tim said quietly.

"Thanks, McGee."

"I'll let you know as soon as I have more information for you," Tim said. "Where are we with the bombs?"

"We know where they are, and how they need to be handled. Fornell has people on it right now. Just worry about Ziva. It's under control."

"Thanks, Boss. I'm going to go find some coffee. Talk to you soon." Tim disconnected, and Jethro went back to the car. He stared at Tony once he was in, hoping he'd turn and look at him. Instead, Tony just stared forward.

"Abby just text me back. Lexi is bringing Samantha and "Little Dragon" with her to NCIS to visit the lab on Wednesday. Until then, Samantha is in lockdown with Lexi at one of Lexi's friends' houses. We're going to have to face her."

"And we will," Jethro said. "Or I can. She's coming to NCIS, not the FBI."

"No. Randall would want me to make sure Lexi is taken care of, and I'm going to make sure that happens." Tony stared out the window, still not looking over at Jethro.

"They think Ziva is going to be alright. Tim is with her and will update us if that changes."

Tony simply nodded.

"Are you going to look at me?" Jethro asked quietly. Tony shook his head no ever so slightly. Jethro turned the keys over in the ignition, and tried not to be angry.

It wasn't working. He was pissed. He understood that rage, understood that anger, better than anyone. He'd let it consume him, and the decision he made had chased him the rest of his life and almost cost him his team, his father, and his own life. He and Tony had already taken enough lives in their time, and he was done with it. If he had his way, the bullet in Frankie Giovanni's head would be the last one fired by him with intention to take a life. It was his final kill, and it was for Tony, to keep the monster from consuming him that he became in that room. There was no doubt in Jethro's mind that if he would have stood back and let him, Tony would have beat Frankie to death, possibly even stopping halfway through to torture him some more.

That wasn't his Tony. That wasn't the man who had reassured him that he would never let that version of him take full control. He took a deep breath, and thought of how long it took them to come back down after Wallingford. That case was still more gruesome, and he was glad they'd been able to keep this one from getting quite that bad. As it was, they had tortured three men, and killed two of them. It wasn't much better that McGee had the third kill, but under the circumstances, he was proud of the shot the kid took, and would defend him on it relentlessly. He suspected that it would never be known to anyone outside of the room what had taken place within it, other than Ziva's overdose.

He tried to hang on to the hope that it would only take some time for his Tony to come back, to shine through and bring his lover to his senses, but the incredibly cold and twisted feeling in his gut had him more than worried.

They arrived at the Hoover building half an hour later, and they started getting everything out of the car that would need to be destroyed, as well as their own duffel bags. Tony silently led Jethro to an incinerator in a back room of the evidence lockup, and started peeling off his clothes. Jethro followed suit, and anything with a drop of blood on it went into the incinerator. They searched through their bags for something to change into, and were soon dressed in jeans and tshirts.

Tony pulled on the sweatshirt that Jethro had picked up for him at the store at the same time Jethro pulled on his own, and Jethro tried to smile at him. Tony still avoided looking at him, and Jethro felt the panic welling up inside of him. He watched as Tony piled the weapons they had confiscated into a box, and labeled it before slipping it into a large locker. He took the key that was left in it, and clipped it onto his key ring until he could talk to Fornell about what to do with it.

Tony picked up his stuff, and Jethro reached out to touch him, but stopped short when Tony stiffened. "Are you coming home tonight?" Jethro asked quietly.

"I don't know," Tony said, and walked out, leaving him standing there.

Jethro gathered his stuff, and headed for his car. He had to go back to NCIS, and then go check on Ziva. He hoped that if he left Tony alone for a while to cool off, he'd come around. He wasn't looking forward to telling Vance everything they'd been through over the past few days, and he wondered how much he even should. He found his car untouched, and got into the trunk. His lockbox was there with his wallet and badge, and he slipped the battery back into his phone. There were dozens of messages, and he started listening to them as he got into the driver's seat.

Abby had left most of them, though one was left by Ducky, and then one was left by Abby that held his attention long enough that he didn't fast forward through it. She had gotten a text from Lexi saying that she'd met them and that she had wondered if they could talk sometime. Abby was concerned that it was a rouse being used by someone within the Giovanni's, and she wasn't going to message her back until she knew for sure she was real. He supposed that Tony had cleared that up for her.

He wanted to let her know that they were back and alright himself, but he didn't think he was able to hold a conversation right then. He found his text messages, and hit reply to the one she had sent him warning him that Tony was in the lab.

_Abs- Tony and I are back. I'm going to NCIS to check in with Vance. If you have not heard, Ziva is in the hospital. McGee is with her. They think she's going to be okay. I'll be heading to Bethesda after that if you and Ducky want to meet me there later. _

He didn't want to ask them to meet him there, but he felt like he could really use an Abby hug, and a visit to the café for bad coffee and tea with Ducky.

He headed for the office, and let his thoughts roll around in his head. He watched as the buildings blurred by, and he wondered how he was going to keep moving forward if Tony wasn't going to move forward with him. He once again tried to convince himself that Tony just needed some time to clear his head, and that he'd come around, but with how fragile they were as a couple still, he knew that it was a very likely story that they'd never make it to that altar.

The guard waved Jethro through at the gate, and he parked in the garage. He made sure his wallet was slipped into his back pocket, and then headed to find a cup of coffee. The barista cart in front of the building was closed though, and he sighed as he headed for the break room to see if there was any sludge left in there. He made a fresh pot, unable to stand what was currently in there, and poured a paper cup full. He made his way to Vance's office, and he knew that he was about to have one of the hardest conversations of his life.

Vance was there behind his desk, paperwork scattered everywhere. When Vance realized who was in the room, he smiled broadly. "Gibbs! Glad you're back in one piece. Just got a call from Bethesda, and they said that Ziva is stable, and McGee was just let back to sit with her."

Jethro took a deep breath of relief. "That's good, Leon. This whole thing has been a clusterfuck. I'm glad it's over."

Vance saw the forlorn and exhausted look on Gibbs' face as he sat heavily in the chair across from him, and stood up, heading for the snifters of brandy. Gibbs shook his head, and Vance looked at him askew before sitting down in the other armchair next to him.

"Start from the top, Gibbs."

"We located Don Parleurs, and found out from that he was supposed to be meeting with Dave Lambrusco in regards to a pick up. We made a trip up to Baltimore to meet up with one of DiNozzo's old contacts so that he could protect Parleurs' sister that we were afraid would get caught up in the drama.

"The next day, we intercepted Dave Lambrusco at the meet-up site, and under the pretense that we were Antoinelli Giovanni's personal assassins-for-hire, we found out that the pick-up was going to be the materials necessary to turn pumpkin bombs into the real thing, and that they would be located in one of the places we sent evacuation orders to.

"McGee and Ziva revealed that they had been following us at that point, and informed us that they had obtained information that DiNozzo's teammates were walking into a trap. He clued Fornell in on the situations at hand, and Fornell tried to call off Agents Thomas and Brandonburg. We released the evacuation orders, and then took Lambrusco with us as we tried to locate them. When we finally caught up with them, Agent Brandonburg showed signs of having severe mental instability, and Agent Thomas took her to the hospital."

"Is she okay?" Vance asked quietly. Gibbs shook his head, and shrugged.

"She seems to be delusional. She believes there's someone else living in her head. Agent Thomas is with her though, and I have a feeling Tony will be checking in on her soon. At that point, he called Fornell, and Fornell informed him that they had Frankie Giovanni in custody. They'd picked him up at Dulles, and we met his transport at one of the FBI's torture shacks. It wasn't long until he was giving up the information we needed. DiNozzo had sent McGee outside with his phone to find a signal and establish a connection with Fornell, while Ziva guarded Lambrusco in a separate room. We'd had a few vials of various drugs to form a crude truth serum. McGee had mixed a needle's worth of it with some slight adjustments to still allow our informant to feel pain right before DiNozzo had sent him outside to find some cell reception."

"And that's what Lambrusco stuck Ziva with?" Vance asked.

"He'd added the rest of one of the other vials, and it started putting her under right away. He was able to get her weapon, and he dragged her into us, threatening to take her out. She managed to stay conscious just long enough to tell us "needle", and that was that. When she passed out, DiNozzo and I both tried to get to her, and he turned the gun on us. That's when McGee took a kill shot from the next room."

Vance's eyebrows rose in surprise and approval, but he didn't say anything.

"We didn't have anything to counteract the drugs other than a small baggie of coke we'd found on Parleurs and had taken in case we needed a plant. McGee got it into her bloodstream, and she started coming around, but was very unstable, so he rushed her off to the hospital. That's when we made contact with Fornell to pass on what we had learned about the locations and detonation methods of the pumpkin bombs." Gibbs hesitated, and Vance looked at him curiously, cocking his head.

Gibbs shook his head, and sighed before continuing. "When we went back in, Frankie Giovanni had regained consciousness, and informed us that he had attempted to torture Tony's contact from Baltimore to find out where Parleurs had gone. The man's heart gave out on him early in though, and he's gone. Tony took it really hard, and things started going downhill quick…"

Vance realized that it was no longer "DiNozzo", but "Tony" they were talking about, and he knew that this had just turned personal. He wasn't talking to his agent now, but his old friend, and he felt that he was being given a chance to redeem himself. He sat forward a little.

"Jethro? What happened?" he asked quietly and in a more intimate tone, trying to let Gibbs know that this part of the conversation was strictly between them.

"He just started pounding on him. I managed to separate them and bring him down a little, but he went cold, and I can't get him to snap out of it. We found out that Parleurs' sister is with a young woman whom we met when we went to meet Randall. Her name is Lexi, and after getting to know her a little, Tony had given her Abby's number, thinking Abby would be a good mentor for the girl since she's going into computer forensics. Lexi is bringing her son and Samantha to meet Abby and see the lab this week, and we're going to have to tell her Randall is gone, and that Don Parleurs is gone. I know it's selfish, but right now all I can ask myself is whether or not Tony is gone."

"Gibbs, you know what the two of you were like after the Wallingford case. Give it some time."

Gibbs shook his head again. "After Wallingford, we turned to each other for support. He won't even look me in the eyes now. I don't think I can do this anymore, Leon."

"Do what, Gibbs?"

"This job. I told Tony the other day… I'm tired of being in the position to take life. I think it's time that I get to live my own without that burden. I should have just left two years ago when I had the chance, and none of this would have ever happened. I would have had… anyway. There's still too much to do. I can't leave yet. I have to train McGee to take my place, and will need to reestablish a decent team to leave him with. I figure another year though, less, and I'm done. It's time- beyond time."

"You should think about this a while, Gibbs."

"I have been for months. It's been my lifeblood for so long, and I want something else to be now."

Vance nodded solemnly. "And you want McGee to take your place?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. He's pretty much been doing it on his own for the past year anyway as SFA. He's really stepped into his own with this case."

Vance thought of how McGee had told him off right before he and Ziva had gone missing, and he chuckled. "Actually, I think he just might work."

Gibbs gave him a small smile and a nod. He knew he was missing something, but simply didn't care enough right now to know what it was. "I'm going to go check on Ziva and McGee, and then I'm going to try to sleep for a couple of days. We're not coming back in until Wednesday."

Vance nodded at him as Gibbs got to his feet. "I take it if you are expecting McGee to take over as team lead, you don't think DiNozzo will come back."

"No. He doesn't belong here now," Gibbs, said and then walked out of the room, leaving Vance with a lot to think about as well.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Tim was sitting next to the bed, watching Ziva sleep fitfully. The doctor had warned him that she wasn't going to sleep peacefully for a while, and though they suggested he try to sleep in the second bed in the room, he simply shook his head and sat by her side. When she started struggling too much in her sleep, he'd take her hand and talk softly to her. That seemed to help, and eventually, he decided to keep her hand in his to keep her from flailing and jerking.

Her eyes would snap open in crazed fear, and then a few minutes later, after he would reassure her that she was safe and he was there, she'd fall back to sleep. It reminded Tim of every movie he had ever seen about possession, and it gave him the creeps. He stayed focused on her though, and when she finally started waking up with a bit more lucidity, he was relieved.

He helped her sit up in bed, and drink from the cup next to them on the nightstand. Only then did he let go of her hand.

"How are you feeling?" he finally asked, knowing it was a ridiculous question, but trying to show his concern.

"I feel like I have been dropped off a forty story building. It reminds me of the hangover I had after we took Tony out drinking that night at Onyx."

Tim chuckled, and took the plastic cup she handed back to him. "If it makes you feel any better, you look a lot better than you did that morning." He chuckled harder, and she hit him in the arm with a much stronger fist than he was expecting. He only chuckled even harder as he grabbed his sore bicep.

"None of us looked all that pleasant waking up on Abby's bathroom floor, yourself included," she reminded him. "I still do not know how we all ended up there, but Tony asleep in a bathtub in his boxers is one thing I could have gone my entire life without seeing."

"Did you and your siblings ever crawl into bed with your parents during a thunderstorm?" Tim asked with a soft smile. Ziva simply raised an eyebrow at him. "I believe it was something like that. Like all of the NCIS kids had crawled into the bathroom together for safety. I still can't believe Fornell slept on Abby's couch that night to keep an eye on us."

"He was the most sober among us. I think he felt it was his job to protect us from alcohol poisoning," she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but having him walk in on all of us passed out in a huddle in the bathroom had to be the best part of the whole night. I mean, his face was priceless!" Tim joked, and was proud of himself as Ziva laughed.

"I'm not sure, the part where he realized that Abby slept in a coffin was pretty funny," she said.

"Oh, yeah! When he came back out of the bedroom from leading her in there, and all he could do was point?"

They both laughed again for a moment until the heart rate monitor started beeping faster and brought them back to the present. A heavy silence fell over them and Ziva sighed, then shivered, pulling the blankets up around her. Tim pulled another one off the other bed, and covered her over.

"I'm sorry, Ziva. I shouldn't have left the needle in there," he said. "I should have taken it with me."

"It is not your fault, McGee. I should have been watching him more closely. I underestimated him. That will not happen again, though honestly, I do not believe I will ever be in that position again."

Tim looked at her closely.

"I believe it is time to do something else. I would like a different life. Things have changed so much, and I have changed. You, Tony, Abby, even Gibbs… you have all helped me to change. I thought for a long time that it was weakness, but it is not. I want more, and I am going to find it."

Tim smiled sadly at her. "I want that for you, Ziva. I'll miss you, but I want you to be happy. And just because you want to do something different doesn't mean you have to do it outside of the agency. Maybe you'll find something there you'd like to do. You'll be on medical leave for a while, and that will give you time to look for something else. The doctor tells me that you're going to have to have stress tests on your heart and some other things to make sure there isn't any damage from the overload of medications and then the coke."

"Coke?" She asked in disbelief. "As in cocaine?"

"Yeah. Tony and Gibbs had some from one of their victims, and when you started going under, that's what we gave you to bring you out of it. You won't pass a drug test for a while anyway, so you're stuck with us!" Tim joked, trying to make light out of it. He watched as Ziva put the pieces together.

"So that is why my arm is bandaged."

Tim nodded.

"And it was you who gave it to me," she said.

"It was Tony's idea, and I administered it. When you started coming back around, I went to take you to the hospital, and someone had air-care called in to meet us halfway. That was probably Tony or Gibbs, though I never really found out for sure."

Ziva nodded at him, biting her lower lip. "Thank you, Tim." She reached up and squeezed Tim's hand that lay on the railing of the bed.

"Thanks for pulling through," he said quietly.

"I had no other choice. Someone's voice kept bringing me back every time I wanted to let go." She smiled at the way Tim ducked his head and blushed, thinking about all of the things he had said in the car to keep her with them. He had kind of hoped that she hadn't been processing any of that and would forget it, but he realized he was kind of glad she didn't.

Abby and Ducky came to the door, and knocked gently. They all smiled at each other, grateful to be near one another.

"Gibbs told us you were here, and we had to come make sure you were okay," Abby said, going to Ziva's other side to take her other hand.

"I am here still," she said with a smile, then looked at McGee and squeezed his hand. "Luckily."

Gibbs came into the room, exhausted in every part of him. He saw the group standing there, both Abby and Tim holding Ziva's hands, and he raised an eyebrow at Tim. He wondered what that was all about, and whether or not he had missed something. He made it a point to watch their body language, and though it was close and familiar, it wasn't romantic. He made a mental note to keep an eye on that.

Abby released Ziva's left hand when she realized Gibbs was standing in the doorway. She came over and wrapped him in a hug. He hadn't felt that embrace for months, and he held on to the slender woman tightly, afraid to let go.

"I'm glad you're okay, Gibbs," she whispered.

"I'm not sure about okay, Abs, but I'm here." Abby pulled back just a little, and searched his eyes. She nodded once at him, and he knew she had seen the broken heart he was starting to cave under. He patted Ducky's arm as he walked past, and came to sit down next to Ziva across from Tim.

"How ya doing, kid?" he asked.

"I have certainly been better," she said with a small smile. "I have been worse though, as well. I will pull through," she continued with another squeeze of Tim's hand.

"Yeah, coke will do that to you," he said with a smirk.

"Coke?" Ducky asked, and Tim, Ziva and Gibbs all rolled their eyes.

"Long story, Duck. I'll explain in a little bit." Gibbs brushed the hair out of Ziva's face and smiled. "Don't scare us like that again."

Ziva looked at Tim for support, and he squeezed her hand this time. She looked back at Gibbs. "I will not have the opportunity. I am resigning," she said clearly, her eyes locked on Gibbs'. He saw the tired look on her face, and thought of her crying by the car when they came out of the café.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" he asked.

"I do not want this life, Gibbs. I do not want to constantly need to wonder if my safety is in jeopardy. I have lived my _entire_ life this way, and I am ready for freedom. I am ready to leave this nightmare behind me, and I believe there is a life out there waiting to be lived where I can help someone and not have to worry about being shot, stabbed, blown up or drugged. I was trained from a very young age to be the person I have been. I am ready to be the person I want to be, and they are not the same."

Gibbs smiled sadly at her. "I get it." He looked up at McGee. "I'm retiring next year. June first, the team is yours. Granted, right now, you are the team, but we'll fix that."

"Wait! What?!" McGee asked in shock. "Say that again?" Murmurs rang up from everyone else around them.

"You deserve it, McGee. I'll always be there if you need me, but it's time I get a chance to live life peacefully, too. At least as peacefully as life can be in my circumstances." Ducky came over, and rested his hand on Gibbs' shoulder.

"I think you and I need to have a talk," he said. Gibbs nodded at him.

"Yeah, we do, Duck." He turned back to Ziva. "I'm glad you're okay, kid. Any idea when you get sprung?"

"They're hoping to let her out tomorrow, but she's going to have to come back daily for stress tests," McGee answered, his eyes on Ziva's who hadn't heard her release date yet.

"Good. You got her?" Gibbs asked.

Tim nodded. He realized then that his hand was still around Ziva's, and he wondered if his boss had misread it as more than it was, or at least as something different than what it was.

"If anything changes, call me right away," Gibbs directed. Both Ziva and Tim nodded at him, and he turned around, leading Ducky out of the room.

As predicted, they ended up in the cafeteria with horrible coffee and weak tea, sitting across from each other at a round table.

"Retirement?" Ducky asked.

"I've been thinking about it for months, and after this case, Duck… I'm done. I'm done watching life bleed out at my hand. I served my country, and I am proud of that. I've continued serving at NCIS, and it has been fulfilling in many ways, but it's time I take care of me. I'm not going to completely drop off the map. I have plans, but they're not going to include putting me in the position to take any more lives, or cause any more pain. I want to help take some of that pain away, now."

"You do, though, Jethro. You help find healing for so many people when you find the criminals that have killed their loved ones or taken their children. You have been there for _so_ many… I guess that is the point though, isn't it? It's time to be there for yourself." Ducky's thoughts wandered a moment, and then his eyes met Jethro's. "You seem tired and sad my friend."

"I am, Duck. This case… I'm afraid it may have broken the very fragile amends that Tony and I were building. We're engaged- or at least we were until this afternoon. I think we still are? I hope we still are…"

"_Engaged_, Jethro?"

"A lot has happened in the past week. So much. I don't know where to begin. Tony came over last Wednesday after we'd worked on the case all day, and he laid into me. I had… _apologized_... before we parted ways that night for everything that had happened between us, and he was angry." Jethro chuckled to himself. "_Angry_. No, he was livid, enraged, furious... One thing led to another though, and he spent the night. The next morning, we were talking, and got everything out in the open, and then he asked me to marry him. He said that if I were serious about wanting to give this a real try, he wanted a promise that we'd make it. I was more than happy to agree to that."

"But you think something has harmed that," Ducky prompted.

"We were going "Wallingford" on our third of the case," Jethro said with a raised eyebrow, waiting for Ducky to show that he understood was he was saying, and when Ducky's eyes went wide, he knew he had gotten the point across. "And we found out that this person had killed an old friend of Tony's. He went off, and I stopped him before Tony could make the same mistake I once made." He waited again, and he saw that it took a moment longer, but that Ducky nodded gravely in understanding. "He felt betrayed, I guess. He was extremely angry that I'd pulled him back and reeled him in, and when I finished the job for him before he had a chance to, he stopped talking to me." Gibbs lowered his head to hide the way his eyes were burning. He didn't care if Ducky saw him like this, but being in public felt entirely too awkward.

Ducky reached out and rested a hand on Gibbs' briefly. "Give him time, Jethro. He'll come around. Think about how long it took the two of you to simply begin eating again after the Wallingford case. He just needs time." Ducky raised his paper cup to his lips and shrugged. "And if that doesn't work, I'll just have to give him a swift kick in the rear."

Gibbs shook his head, and took a drink of his coffee. "I'm not sure it's going to be that simple, Duck. I'm giving him his space for now, but I'm not going to let him go. I have held on for this long, and I'll hold on for as long as it takes. I'm just not sure I can survive the wait."

"You can, Jethro, and you will."

Gibbs simply shook his head, and got up to leave.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

Tony felt like every muscle in his body was tighter than they should be. He caught himself grinding his teeth every few minutes, and his jaw was starting to hurt. He had an incredible rage boiling under his skin, and as he looked in the mirror of the bathroom after rinsing his face with water, he saw his eyes were darker than he'd ever remembered seeing them. He stopped breathing a moment as he saw the monster Jethro had claimed he was turning into. He shook his head. The monster wouldn't have been there any more if Jethro would have let him take out his anger on Frankie. He dried his hands, and went to find Fornell.

They met up in Fornell's office, and the older man was glad to see Tony was in one piece. When their eyes met though, he realized that perhaps he really wasn't. He felt a knot in his stomach, and handed Tony the Ziploc bag that was tucked in his desk drawer that held Tony's credentials and real ID. Tony opened the bag and began putting it all back together where it belonged, slipping his wallet into his pocket, his handcuffs on his belt and his badge on the other side. He then slipped his battery in his phone, and turned it on.

"The bombs are being dismantled as we speak. It's not going to take long. They had been thrown back together in a hurry once they got their hands on the plutonium and uranium. We'll track the materials, but I'm pretty sure it's safe to say they got them from Lebanon with what we know so far."

Tony didn't say anything, just slipped his phone in his pocket.

"Tony?" Fornell finally said, unnerved by the silent man before him. "You wanna run down the case now or later?"

"Later. I'll come by tomorrow."

"Okay. Now, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?"

Tony shook his head, and Fornell reached out to put his hand on Tony's shoulder, trying to get him to look at him.

"Tony. Talk to me." He kept his voice gentle, afraid of what was happening inside his friend's head. "Please."

Tony turned and glared at him, then walked out of the room. He felt like the world was coming apart around him. The monster inside wanted out, and he didn't know how to make it stop. He was so angry. Angry at Frankie Giovanni, angry at Jethro, angry at Randall for not calling him right away when he knew something was up.

He suddenly wanted nothing more than to drown the monster with something hard, and he got into his car with a battle raging in him that he hadn't felt so strongly in months.

He knew where he'd go; some place no one would see him, no one would know him. He could pick something up to drown the anger, the violent monster trying to claw his way out of him, and head home to sit in the dark alone. He pulled his seatbelt on, and shook as he put his keys in the ignition.

_I shouldn't be doing this. I should just go back upstairs, and talk to Fornell. I should call and check on Pammy. I should call and check on Ziva. I should call Abby, and have her meet me at her place. I should call Dale. Or Meghan. I should probably call Meghan. I don't feel right. What's wrong with me?_

Tony yelled at the top of his lungs as he went down the highway. He was furious and scared, and he didn't want to feel _anything_. All he wanted to do was _stop_ feeling, and he knew what would help him do that. He pulled up to a liquor store on Wilson Boulevard, and sat in the parking lot. He stared at the glass-front of the place, and wondered what he was doing.

"You can't go in there, Tony. Get it together. This isn't where you need to be right now. Put the keys back in the ignition, and leave. You're close to Jethro's, just go to Jethro's. He'll take care of you. Let him take care of you. He got you into this mess anyway."

_Why the hell did he stop me? _He thought. _Why didn't he just let me get it out of me while I had the chance? Now I'm going to have to carry it around with me. That bastard! Why in the hell did he do that to me? He locked it up inside of me, and now it's never going to leave! I have enough anger in there to last a lifetime- I didn't need any more. _

_And the fucking Giovannis! I won't rest until every single one of them are behind bars or dead. I thought I was finally going to be free from this nightmare, free from this ridiculous case, but no. Now, I won't be able to let it go, and it's going to haunt me forever. _

_Why do I do this? Why do I give a damn anymore? I mean, Randall is gone, Ziva wants out, Gibbs is retiring, Pammy had a nervous breakdown, the fucking mafia is trying to take out an entire city so they can gain control over the country, and I'm not even allowed to drink it all away now and then because I can't fucking control myself!? What the hell is wrong with me? I should be able to have one night where I can block it all out. One night to save my sanity. One night where I can drown it all and forget. I deserve one night!_

He felt the tears starting to well up in his eyes. He yelled at the top of his lungs, and hit the steering wheel. His resolve broke, and he was about to get out of the car when his phone chimed. He sighed, and looked down on it. He didn't want to answer it, but he knew it could be McGee with bad news about Ziva, so he looked down to read the text. It was from Ja'Rell.

_Tony, they won't let me back there to see Pammy! I don't know what to do. She has no next of kin. I'm the closest thing, and they won't let me back there. _

Tony sighed heavily, feeling his heart break for the man. He thought about when he and Jethro had made each other their medical proxies, years before they were even a couple, and he knew that even then they had something special between them that would never be taken away.

Tony closed the car door, and put the key in the ignition.

_I'm on my way,_ he texted back, and then he was. He wasn't sure how he was going to get Ja'Rell in there, but he knew that he had to. Then he had an idea. He looked through his phone at the next stop sign, and found Meghan's number. He dialed, and waited for it to ring.

"Tony! You're back!" she said cheerfully into the phone, relief flooding her.

"I am, and I need a favor. I'm on my way to Bethesda. One of my teammates was admitted today for psychiatric evaluation, and she doesn't have anyone. I need for you to come down, and advise that her partner be allowed in to see her."

"Her partner?" she asked.

"Yeah. They were a team in San Diego before we brought them out here a year ago for this case, and this case went horribly wrong. They're really all each other has, and she means everything to him. He's worried sick, and he promised her he'd take care of her, which is why she let him take her to the hospital, but now they won't let him back there."

"I'll meet you there in twenty minutes," she said and hung up on him.

Tony smirked at her abruptness, and wondered how he had ended up with all of these important people in his life with a tendency to simply hang up on him. He was still ten minutes out from the hospital, and he knew he was going to have to check his anger at the door, otherwise Meghan would sniff it out immediately, and he wasn't in the mood for an impromptu session. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do with his evening, but a large part of him was dreaming about a bottle of scotch and mindless movies until he couldn't feel any of the confused jumble of emotions running through him.

He finally made it to the hospital and parked. He messaged Ja'Rell to find out where he was, and he met him in a lobby. Ja'Rell's wild-eyed expression and tapping foot changed when he saw Tony. He stood up, and came to stand in front of him.

"What's the game plan?" Ja'Rell asked with eager urgency.

"We're waiting for a friend who is going to try to help. For now, we just need to hang tight." Tony sat down in the chair closest to him, and Ja'Rell sat next to him.

"When I got here, I had told them what had happened and who I was. The nurses told me that the docs would have to see her alone, and I understood that. I don't know what happened since she went back through the door into triage. I waited, and I thought that I'd get the chance to see the doctor, but when I finally asked the nurse for an update two hours later, I didn't get anything. She said she couldn't update me because I wasn't family. I tried to tell her the situation, but she still said that I couldn't. I don't know what else I can do." Ja'Rell's leg was tapping again, and he was twisting one of the health pamphlets he had picked up in his hands nervously.

"That's why Jethro and I have POA over each other," Tony's voice came out without thinking.

"You do? I think I'm a bit confused on a few things. I mean, he was your boss at NCIS, right?" Ja'Rell asked.

Tony looked at him, and nodded. "Yeah. I was under him for thirteen years when we started seeing each other. We were POAs way before that though. There was always something important there," Tony said softly, staring off into space.

An internal war was being waged between his anger and his love for Jethro and their relationship. He wanted to stay angry at him for taking away a moment so crucial for him, but he remembered the day he had asked Jethro to be his POA so that his father wouldn't have rights to him.

Jethro had looked up at him like he was humbled and shocked, and then the fury settled in. Jethro had hated Senior from that day forward. He had always known that things were rocky between father and son, but Tony realized he'd said too much by inferring he didn't trust his father with his life if something were to happen, because the look on Jethro's face could have killed.

Tony fought back the smile he usually got when he thought of Jethro's protectiveness. He looked at Ja'Rell. "We were dating for about six months when our Director had found out about it, but honestly I'd loved Jethro for years. I was about to move in with him, and things had been pretty amazing between us despite a couple of really horrible cases, and the death of a friend and fellow agent. And then Vance made us choose- the job or the relationship. And Jethro… chose the job.

"Everything hit the fan, and I left NCIS. I hadn't seen him until the other morning, but we'd never stopped loving each other. I know it's crazy to be back together and everything so soon, but my life was empty without him. You saw what I was like when you first came to D.C. I was miserable. If it weren't for Fornell and Abby, I'd probably still be miserable.

"We were both the job, but he was especially. It had been everything to him, and it got him through the toughest shit that could've ever been thrown at a person. I get it now. He was scared, and I was angry, and we let it all fall apart in front of us in the blink of an eye." Tony stared off into space, realizing that he really did get it now. He understood, and he was okay with it. It had all worked out in the end, until today.

"That's why I never pursued anything with Pammy," Ja'Rell said with a shake of his head. "The job is all she's ever had to get her through the shit in her life, too. You know her parents were killed when she was young, the foster parents she had afterwards abused her, and she has nothing else. I didn't want to chance jeopardizing that for her, so I never said anything, didn't pursue it, and I tried to leave her behind, but I couldn't. She means too much to me. At the same time, I feel like I've let her down. She doesn't believe she's worthy of being loved, and she had no idea the entire time, I've been sitting there loving her so much it hurts. I know things are about to get really rough for her. I'm not going to let her down again. I'm going to be there with her, by her side through all of this, thick or thin."

Tony watched Ja'Rell's sincerity, and he started thinking of Fornell and Abby and their pledge not to let him go through his sobriety alone. He suddenly felt ashamed that he was going to let them down tonight, and he was extremely grateful for Ja'Rell's text for help. Ja'Rell continued, needing to talk, and Tony listened, needing to hear.

"I've never been the type to fall in love. I did though, the moment I met her. Love at first sight. After six years on the same team, you'd think I would've known what was happening. I mean, I knew _something_ was wrong, Tony. I knew _something_ had been eating her the past few months, and I thought that eventually, this case would be over, and I'd ask her to go away with me for a while, just the two of us. I was going to tell her what I'd been feeling, and explain that I couldn't keep working with her if I couldn't have her in both my personal _and_ professional lives. It was all in the plans. I didn't expect this. She's gonna pull past it though, I know Pammy. She'll do whatever it takes, and I'm going to be right there by her side through it all, come hell or high water. She won't go through this alone, man, I swear, I won't let her."

Tony watched Ja'Rell talk about Pammy, and he knew that every word he said was true. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. He'd make sure she was supported through the entire process, and Tony knew it was going to be a long and arduous journey for the both of them. He looked up as Meghan came in and looked around, connecting with them. Tony smiled at her, and thought of how supportive she had been to him, not just professionally, but as a real friend. She came over, and Tony stood up to offer his seat. He was taken by surprise when Meghan wrapped him in a tight hug, and he hugged her back with a smile.

"I'm so glad you're alive and well, Tony," she whispered into his ear.

"Me, too, Meghan. Me, too." They pulled back from each other, and Tony introduced her to Ja'Rell. He recapped what the situation was, and left the two of them to chat while he went to find the vending machine. He felt the anger trickling out of him as he walked, and it took his breath away, replacing it with pure exhaustion. He pulled out his wallet and put a dollar into the machine, then waited as it spit out some kind of flavored coffee. It wasn't great, but he'd had worse. He looked at the cup, and he thought of Jethro.

He thought of everything they had come through that week, and looking back over the day, he saw the pleading in Jethro's blue eyes that he hadn't let himself see before. He saw the concern and the fear, and he saw the compassion as they stood in the bedroom of the cabin, which he was completely blind to earlier. He remembered the conversation he had with Jethro about how Tony scared him when he was like that, and the way Jethro had shivered as he talked about it.

He felt like a total ass.

Jethro had been trying to calm him down because he was afraid of him, and afraid of who he would become if "his Tony" didn't come back. He was terrified that Tony'd let the monster take over. And what had he done? He let the monster take over. He shook his head, and went back to the waiting room to find Ja'Rell sitting alone again, anxiously chewing on a thumbnail and tapping his foot again.

"She's requested to talk to the doctor. He came right out, and she's gone back behind the doors with him. She thinks that if they haven't sedated Pammy, since she's still here voluntarily, she can sign a consent form for me to be able to see her."

"Meghan is great. If there's anyone who can help us, it's going to be her," Tony said with a smile. A few minutes later, they heard Meghan's voice from the hallway, and they both looked up to see her smiling. She waved Ja'Rell back, and he got up and ran past her, making her chuckle. She smiled at Tony, and he mouthed "Thank you" before she turned and followed Ja'Rell down the hall.

Tony knocked back his cup of coffee, and then threw it away. He still felt tense, but seeing himself through Jethro's eyes let him know what he had to do. He went back out to his car, and headed south. The entire drive, he realized he'd been a horrific asshole that afternoon. Jethro had done nothing but be supportive through the entire case, relinquishing control to Tony through it all, which Tony knew was not easy for him. He'd done exactly what Tony had told him he did- he'd kept Tony's humanity safe for him.

He pulled into Jethro's driveway, and grabbed his bag from the back seat. Jethro's words to him in evidence echoed in his mind, _'Are you coming home tonight?' _Tony nodded to himself. "I'm home, Jethro," he whispered. "I'm home."

He went in, putting down his bag by the door. Jethro was sitting alone on the couch with a fire going, but he just stared off into space. He finally looked up at Tony, afraid of what he was going to say as he stood there in the middle of the living room.

"You have something of mine," Tony said.

"What's that?" Jethro asked quietly, feeling his body tremble in fear that Tony was about to leave him for good.

"My humanity. I'm here for it. I'm here for you to put it back into me little by little until I'm me again." Tony's voice cracked, and he felt a sudden warmth rush down his spine as he tried not to let the tears fall that were threatening.

Jethro sighed in relief and immediately reached out his arms for Tony to join him on the couch. Tony took off his jacket, and came to sit up against Jethro, who took him in his arms and held him.

"Thank you," Tony said.

"For what?" Jethro asked, shaking now in relief, his heart racing.

"For not letting me become the monster, for keeping me safe."

"You're not that person, Tony."

"I'm both, and it scares me."

"We're all capable of good things and bad things. Choosing the good, choosing to put that good into action more than the bad, that's key. Making that decision to actively choose good, and to be there for others when the bad affects them, that's what's important, and that is the Tony DiNozzo that I know and love with everything in me. And that's who you are, Tony. You're not the dark person who was in that cabin today. We all have dark moments, but they are just that, moments, and we can't let them define us."

Tony sighed and clung to Jethro, shaking as Jethro ran a hand through his hair. After a long while, Tony started calming. He felt the strong supportive arms around him, and he heard his lover's heartbeat under his ear. "What are you going to do to let that good out when you retire, Jethro?"

Jethro smiled. "I'm going to be there for my husband, and support him as he takes on the world. I'm going to support Tim as he becomes a team leader, and mentor him. I'm going to help Ziva get situated into a new life outside of the job, and I'll be there for Abby, Ducky and Jimmy as they move forward with their lives. I'll go visit Leyla and Amira, and I think I'm going to volunteer to work with those suffering from PTSD. Life is full of good, and I'm going to do what it takes to remember that."

"Really? I know someone who can help you get involved with that. I'll have to ask him if it's okay for me to connect you two though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. My sponsor. He's got some substantial experience in the area."

"That could be helpful."

"It has been for me," Tony said quietly.

Jethro's fingers stopped running through Tony's hair.

"You really are the best part of me, Jethro. When I left, being away from you, not having that comfort, that support, that solidarity with you after what we had done, I started having flashbacks and nightmares of not only Wallingford, but Ned. I'd wake up from a nightmare, standing in the bathroom with absolutely no idea where I was, or how I got there. I'd drink them away, but they'd come back. Meghan knew about them, but it was my sponsor who really was able to talk me through them, and teach me to deal with them without drinking."

Jethro bent down, and kissed Tony's forehead. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"It's not your fault, Jethro. Not at all. We did what we did, and that's a demon I'll have to live with. You saved me from going there again today, and that is one more demon that I won't have on my back."

"That's because that's my spot- at your back, Tony, always."

"I know, Jethro."

They got quiet for a long time, and Jethro shifted to hold Tony against his chest as they lay on the couch. Tony let his fingers drift down Jethro's arm, and it settled his nerves enough to think about them instead of the case.

"Jethro?" Tony asked quietly.

"Hmm?" Jethro asked dozily.

"Do you still want to marry me?" he asked, thinking about what Jethro had said earlier.

"Yes, Tony. More than ever."

Tony smiled.

"Good, because I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jethro kissed Tony's forehead again, and soon they were both asleep on the couch.

-o-o-

_A/N: This chapter is near and dear to me. I started writing this story when I stopped drinking in July of 2012, and it quickly became an outlet for me. The rage, the desperation, and the confusion of staying sober is wrapped up in the pages of every torture scene, every fight, every angsty tear-jerking moment. I was scared to post this story for the longest time, but once I started, your incredible feedback became a venue of support, and I will never be able to express the depths my gratitude. _


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